two more short, untitled poems

I want

to slice my flesh open

and bleed out

maybe the world

could take my blood

as payment for the

debt I have incurred

 

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It's survival of the fittest, perverted

with an old brain screaming full

of those slithering, scurrying

thoughts of

          more now need give me somehow no matter what

and my mind has shut down

all cognitive processes stopped

that energy rerouted

          DETOUR!

back into that broken

survival mechanism

it's me against myself

fittest only in my dreams and

doomed, if I continue

 

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