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Cut and Rot |
| Written by August Blackwood | |
| Monday, 28 April 2008 | |
He lives And he eats. But it is only I Who knows Of his Secret death. I watch his every move And de-code his vibrant smile. His farewell signs are In his every stir and budge. I look into his eyes And their brown color are illusions Over the gray underneath. His soul has cracks And most of the chips Have fallen away. My friends all attack Him with words that stab. He is a strong man, they say, nothing can cut his bones. He's our buddy, he'll take everything and leave Us cured. But I see his invisible tears Trickle down his smile, Where they sink into his burnt lips. I just want to make my friends' words Material And slash them to pieces of gory, pulsing flesh. But I resist the urge And keep on smiling. They're the same age as me. They're too young to die. But... Just today, I brushed My hair before My old mirror. And I found my first Gray strand. I tried to pull it out, ANd once I did, I noticed... It was brown Again. To my surprise, I looked up to see My ribs exposed. My flesh falling in stinking chunks of meat. I touched it, But I found my skin instead. I saw the frowning muscles Behind my painful smile. My burning Smile: I watched it peel away. Copyright 2008 August Blackwood |
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| Last Updated ( Monday, 28 April 2008 ) |
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