Ricochet

Free Verse ReVolution

Click go
the trigger hairs and
suddenly
I’m playing
musical chairs
with damaged nerves.

Scratch goes
the matchbook and
I’m an
arsonist whose
features black
smoke
obscures.

Splash in
the basin and I’m
blessed by
something
tasteless,

creationist
as holy water
designed

to burn.

Twitch is
the prayer that
I wear on
my face,

the dragging of
feet determines
my pace;

click of
the tongue and boils
of the blood are
malignant
growths
I’ve grown to
appreciate for their
tenacity,

and how they
passionately SHOOT
TO
fucking
KILL.

Clash go
the broadswords in
a battle
of wills,

two souls at
war but only
one has
the skill to lay
claim to

the throne.

Rattle in
my rib cage,
stoke go
the embers of a
morning fire’s
rage.

Unlock goes
the cage as
a familiar
sun comes up and

blind are
my eyes but
dark is
the light, and
to live…

View original post 9 more words

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