Tuesday, 24 May 2011


Sunk deep
in a cheap stuffed
Takes two
Just to prop you up
And those two
who wipe you down
and feed your mouth
think you’re frail.

Remember the baseball bat
Behind the door you
used on my brothers?

You used
something else
on my mum.

You don’t remember;
can’t remember
But I do.
And I’m happy you’re like this

From rotten to rotting
I hope it drags out.
Your pain.


No comments:

Post a Comment