feathers, dancers & metal lust

A collection of poetry, flash fiction and other things.


19. tick tock

the memory of you,

its trapped inside,

clouding me like two,

three four five, he died,

six seven eight gagged, stripped down,

and tied can't sit up straight. 

it was past his nightshift,

the time was getting late. 

towards the sky he was lift,

nine ten eleven the movement was swift

brought him closer to heaven

twelve then dreaded thirteen,

i wanted you back at seven.

and now you can't be seen, 

except this headstone that i try to keep clean

as a nobleman's throne

but you can't wash away the rot of the bone

so here i have to stay, 

the pain clouding me like

two, three four, the murderer will pay.   

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