a bullshit poem about another poem

sitting in a lull

the dawn ages away, when

suddenly eyes

are upon me.

my terror, instinctive;

my urge to fight back,

just as much so

and quickly taking


escaped though, and

i am left

adrenaline coursing

an added ingredient to

a heady mix already


secondary shut down,

and the gates close-

future release denied

suspension of

grief receptacle,


flashback and

the inevitable realization.

mind over matter, every time,

here, take this.

its shape,

shitty and shifting.

make it right;

use that rush.

and the environment?

succumbs, and i


instead of bark, as is


well done, good girl.

Originally published at magneticvirgo.wordpress.com on June 6, 2016.

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.