Inked

The words I speak appear on my skin. Like black snakes they crawl across my body. There’s so many of them that they can’t move freely anymore.

My body’s not a canvas, it’s a toilet wall littered with curses and profane jokes.

I’m like an island lost at sea, incapable of swimming to a shore where I could find a different life.

In my mind, seven allegedly beautiful angels are sitting on a wall, drinking their last beer. One calls out, where the fuck do we go from here? And as they weep in a heartbreaking melody, I can feel the world break down.

I’m running on empty promises. Puny attempts to break free from the chains I’ve put around my ankles keep me occupied, but it’s never enough.

It’s never enough.

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