21 dec 2012

and,
there it is.

it's back again.
it's black again.
it's charcoal burning --
bitter
churning...

small and dry and hot and
hardened --
like a stone.

ossified and petrified and
no flesh on the bone.

if i'm not mindful every minute
of my heart and all that's in it
something inky seeps right in it.

nasty copper taste of hate
fills my mind.
inchoate...
something putrid there is brewing.
something rotten, spitting, spewing...

and you are there
and so convenient.
it's just words, man,
i don't mean it.