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Literature
Ghost in the Radio
I'm becoming static
while death sings.
Literature
haemophobia
crimson paint
immersing my canvas,
soaked: choked
into darkness
falling
calling your name
stalling each
after breath
i am crawling the carpet
ignoring burns, cuts:
let the blood stain
you forecasted warm rain
to wash through
my digested chills--
[were you there
in this
metallic nightmare?]
Literature
The Lepidopterist's Collection
We are beautiful, he said.
Our razor-fine wings cut through
his mind;
carving our existence into him;
leaving our legacy
although creatures of such beauty never truly die anyway...
he must keep us forever.
Tiny antennae search our surroundings
that are sheltered: shielded
from the world that kills itself.
One day, he will see that he's murdering
the only creatures he can love;
when evolution recognises that
freedom is merely a stroke of luck.
We are beautiful, dead.
Suggested Collections
Featured in Groups
Striking and true.
______
A three word Senryu.
______
A three word Senryu.
© 2013 - 2024 LadyLincoln
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