163rd Poem: cry

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a commaful post [visuals on my commaful account, thougtfuldragon, in the external link] from yesterday august 1, 2020 that i wrote when i cried and revised to meet the daily prompt, 'burn'


every tear i cry is sharp,

the salt bitter on my tongue, 

drying my mouth like a quickly wilting flower,

tearing down my face, ripping it apart,

flesh from bone, bone from flesh,

ragged cuts.


the stains can be washed away,

but the intense pain stays. 


each jab, every stab, jagged- 

my heartstrings torn and battered.

my throat closes up,

i'm choking,

gasping,

screaming for air,

i can't breathe, 

i'm suffocating.


the darkness consumes me,

or is it the light?

how do i get out of this plight?

is it even worth the fight?


my ribs and limbs distorted,

my mind heavy, brain in disarray,

i can't think- which way is

right, what's wrong, nails!
claw away the pain, 

stop the dreadful song.


the tears scorch my cheeks,

my face heats up from the terrifyingly calm warmth,

my mind set ablaze, 

thoughts a hazard,

neurons surely charred 

from my internal inferno,

the flames of my brain's hemispheres crack and 

pop from neuro shortages,

those lapping flames reach my vocal chords and

devour my whimpers, my wails 

as hot coals press down on my lungs,

stripping me of oxygen

until all that's left is ember, 

my flame is almost out,

i'm going up in smoke


the pain searing me is 

no benevolent hearth,

it's violent,

it's angry,

hurt,

sparks fizzling out from the burn.


a/n

did you like it? thoughts? too much fire and flames talk?

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