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Pale War
by Lacey SmithSkin is a husk,
a single thread of glowing light
that passes over the insides
and hides the dirt,
the blood.
I thought I could reap myself,
to plow my heart anew
with alcohol and wit,
with spiderwebs
in the corners of rooms.
In two alphabets,
I cursed the world and
everything in it.
I sank my teeth directly into
that pulsing core.
And I ran my fingers across the wood
that broke up history
into tiny and inconsequential
dioramas,
dusty--insignificant. 07/24/2011 Author's Note: First poem in a few years, when it was written.
Posted on 11/10/2011
Copyright © 2024 Lacey Smith
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Ryan Nardi on 04/27/14 at 05:33 AM Saw this as POTD, and I really dig it. I kind of wish it was longer, but I wouldn't say to go back and add anything. You've got a lot of raw emotion here and it shows. Great rhythm and natural rhymes. Really a great piece. |
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