Crossing Lines - A Collection of Poetry

The Black; My Coverage

In the black and back to black

Their thoughts are the blade of a knife

So sharp and so willing

I scuttle like worm from bird

They're coming

Gte in the black and back to black

Jarring stones they throw in violence

Echo. Echo. Echo.

Down drains that are my soul

For it leads to the rusty drainage of all unwanted

They're coming

Get in the black and back to black

Tainted, i will not trust in friendship ever no more

scarred and bleeding

Never healing

They're coming

Get in the black and back to black

I wait

I wait

I wait

They're not coming

I move out of the shadows that have been my black coverage

And wait

And like a cat on mouse

They pounce

I'm back to black

But not my black. My coverage

A punch i won't hear

I'm in the black

And back to black forever