literature

Crepitus

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ParalyticProcess's avatar
Published:
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Literature Text

You would kill them, slowly.
       Every slug on the wet sidewalk, a silent victim
                  to your salt revolver
                  and I would say nothing.

I would never stand up to you,
  my voice cowering in its box.

Maybe I was terrified, a slug myself
             or maybe I liked to watch things die as well.

But that would make me a murderer
       and I don’t think I am ready.
Not yet.
                Not now.

So I took several quiet minutes to gather my voice from the cobwebs
    and when I opened my chapped lips to tell you


            you cut me off at the knees.

-D.E.M

Part of my "Soft Needles in Sharp Places" Collection.

© 2015 - 2024 ParalyticProcess
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Medoriko's avatar
Your poetry takes the air out of my lungs, I swear. Just beautiful. :heart: