poetry, word

Dot. Dot. Dot.

Cut it off

Pluck it out

Rip and tear

Muted word

Count the cost of it’s life

Its too precious, 

Oh, my precious

Silver and gold and pearls

Slobbered inside pigs’ jowls

Dripping sticking

Toss it


hold it inside

Treasured up

Keep and watch and wait

Don’t let the breath stay sitting still

Too long, To leave



of the both

Undecided indecisions

You won’t let it live or die

But create it not to be

And never was it

Worth it 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s