The doom of a velvet crush
The fear in the pain we lust
Your tear duct is
pierced with a tear
-Am I your God?
Enamel bites their thoughts away
on this very cold
Wednesday-Grey
The bleeding of a wound
conceived the dream
with a cry
-Did you really wish me to die?
Acid, morphine; the drugs are
taking me whole
Now I'm gashing
my throat and
peeling skin
My thoughts are
much worse
from within
There are voices
of an ignorant sound
Speaking in tongues
Speaking in fear
Speaking of death
-Though it is too late
I've committed my own crime!
Fiction 2002
©Bobby Ruelas
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