Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god
It'll be the last time you're invited
I'm letting it
Wriggle and writhe
A place in my spine,
To alert the demons
Withing that
The voice of god
No longer claps in rage.
I give it a home
In the pit of my belly.
It seethes and
Controls the bile, moving
It into my throat
To spew upon the streets.
In my bed, under my covers,
Safe in my haven,
It still finds me.
It chews the finer parts
Of me until I quake.
I throw it away but it
Always returns.
9-16-10
Wriggle and writhe
A place in my spine,
To alert the demons
Withing that
The voice of god
No longer claps in rage.
I give it a home
In the pit of my belly.
It seethes and
Controls the bile, moving
It into my throat
To spew upon the streets.
In my bed, under my covers,
Safe in my haven,
It still finds me.
It chews the finer parts
Of me until I quake.
I throw it away but it
Always returns.
9-16-10
Comment On This Poem --- Vote for this poem
It`ll be the last time you`re invited
It`ll be the last time you`re invited
