Poetry

The Knot In My Skin

I lost my only thought holding

dissipated wants

You still haunt every room but

Loving every knot 

In my skin. I feel the pain rise like afterthought.

Chase me down. The ghost in the backroom wears the crown 

He likes to trick us semiweekly just so immediately

We let it go down so destructively exposed each our underbelly

Thrashing for it expectedly lost control

I’m finding residual leftover then stole

In losing my mind when a man has taken even so

it’s love I withhold but yet feel wholely, in my soul

Word to hated

He left me to a mind jaded

left inquisition barricaded. Hear the siren serenaded

I’m emaciated just a shadow and shot-down

But I can’t take a breath, so I taking a step down

And when I want to drown, I can’t forget the way

The ghost intrudes a say, telling me to stay layed

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