Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god


Shivers in my spinal column
Send me confessing sobs and sins
Out into these darkened hours
In which sleep has been missing.
Whereas I turn and obsess
Over comfort (or the lacking of such)
My spine, my neck, my nerves
Send me convulsing in
Either irritation or pain (not sure which)
And I spend another
Night of wasted sleep pondering the
Severing of my own spine.
Rip it from its resting place and
Play jump rope with it,
To adjust it to my liking.

May 29, 2007

Comment On This Poem --- Vote for this poem

317,515 Poems Read
Upgrade sweetcuppincakes
to Poetry Prime.

Can you become a Poetry Prime Member? We ask because your support keeps the site running.