Poem of the Day –Crates of Fear

Crates of Fear


Chewing pillows inside a gravity tantrum

Soil and panting, cruel dry throat constricting,

Foul teeth stench over arching.


Precipice closer and chilled fire burning

Desire for rescue churning

Rear guard lurching


Hold and hug ice cold tears

Encroaching squashed in cubicles

Too small for experts


Fractured bones squeezed into powder

Shaking red blood flowing

Arteries closing

Pancreas frozen breath last token


Gluttony groping in poisoned heat

Completely broken

Lost and choking

Like brick in brain corrosion

Lost in the ocean

To drown

To lower the tone




July 6th 2016

Patrick Turner-Lee Copyright 2016

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