(Poems) – bloody clay – 102 words

I want to bite my skin,

to taste the thick copper in my mouth,

to let it drip from my lips like a warning.

I want the blood to drown me,

to soften myself,

to turn my body to clay.

I want to reshape the putty,

to work out the flaws,

to make something worth the time.

I want to step into the kiln myself,

soft and bloody,

and feel the fire sear my body.

I want to be different when the flames die,

maybe something with some beauty,

or something with some direction,

or maybe something that won’t bleed so easily.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s