Any thing at any time.
And right now
All the while disgusted at it
I lay in it
Bathe in it
Add to it
And in a minute laughing
from a memory
I steal moments
The moments are like rope
They may well help me out
Like the time going by in this well
And will anyone realise I’m drowning
Will anyone realise that my mouth and nose are submerged
Am I really that terrible at communicating by loss of life
My lifeless eyes once a window, now a door.
Shut that door and let us store the filth. Store the smell of rotting flesh of the body that once contained a precious soul.
She’s here no more.
© 2013 by Rianna Powell. All rights reserved