Litkicks Message Board Archive


Posted to Action Poetry

as leaves fall
and the stairs
creak in the cold
that lays beside me
with fragile fingers
that twitch out of
lost impulses
that never birthed
from the body
into a dream
i hear the tap
of my old bathroom
as it calls
to me from elsewhere
with rythme
that skips
in the dark hours
my mind awake
my flesh tired
as memory
seeps back
into my thoughts
that smile
with corrupt intent
made of earth and bone
to suckle on
my depleting marrow
as i am still
in fetal position
of comfort and familiarity
the tears
soaking into
the accustomed pillow
while she lays
two doors down
in her own