02 September 2008

..in rust and tar..


With rusty cutters
Break my chest open
With bitter coated hands
Dig deep into my cracking ribcage
Beyond the crimson blood and ancient tar
There drips a heart out of breath
Crawling from one gasp of air to the other
Grasp your dry fingers around it
Do not hesitate
To slay the last beat
For tomorrow, as the sun glides
Pink butterflies may flutter
If I hadn’t died

1 comment:

Meg said...

love it....
my hands were bitter and coated yesterday...today i hope they wont be