Poetdiary

The Post Apocalyptic Present

17.8.19

The light retreats
Silent freaks
We lie awake
I lie to you
You pull me under
The ashes cover the sky
Burning debree
Smoked out lungs
Picture perfect poison
A swarm of cicada's
fly down stranded streets
Cockroaches in sheets
Swallowing scissors
I cut at your insides
Falling like flies
Prick your finger on the searing grass
shards of glass
Paranoid paper people
we fold and unfold
rip and burn
we
are
endless
but
we
die
in
seconds