Saturday, June 25, 2016

To The Gutters

What would you do with that knife that hasn’t been done a million times before unto me? 

Thrust it as fierce as you might want, break the flesh, the bone, brittle…it shall never fill that void one calls life.


None is more black than the shattered mirror, the rippling well, the underbelly of life, where the dead shall suffer death no more.   

Come and tear at the flesh, to the gutters, where the dead shall suffer death no more.