by Jack Blatish

Created on: August 23, 2009

I have a shadowy wound in the pit of my body

No hollow burning like a bullet

Nor searing like a glimmering slash from a knife.

It's luke warm and just chips away elegantly.

With everyday we stay together.

It grows like a cancerous black hole.

Choking the air supply to my brain.

And yours.

I feel like we can recover, today.

But I know we are already stone dead.

Countless resuscitation just prolong the tears.

Agonising with it

So bite the bullet, twist the knife.

Finish each other off.

Say goodbye and move away.

Thoughtless kindness and stressful lies,

Are like sour bread dipped in tar,

Which we ate with smiles.

And drink with crimson forgetfulness.

It tastes great dear,

But just for God's sake aim that silver single shot.

Twist that crooked fishing blade in.

Close your eyes and teeth.

And finally exhale.

Turn away.

Melt out of the glowing kitchen

The purple dining room.

Or, if you won't

Just pass me the broccoli, please.

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