Photo by Tim Marshall on Unsplash
smother it with a pillow like you would a scream when everyone in the house is sleeping. nobody can know you’re still awake and agonizing over every breath you take.
starve it like a protestor on a hunger strike. refuse to take another bite until it promises not to bite back.
ignore it like reoccurring chest pain or blinding headache. no one would believe you anyway.
submerge it in blood, liquor, tears, or sweat and hold it down until it takes its final breath. and do not resuscitate.
throw it in a body of water with cinderblocks chained to its ankles. let it sink to the bottom with a promise tucked between its teeth: if you bury me now, I’ll drag you down with me.
In honor of National Poetry Month, my books are currently $6.99 on Amazon, and will remain so until the end of the month. Get your copies today while they last. The Art of Starving Carnage: poems for the haunted Love Like a Storm Flames Speak
Comments