Holes in Delusions

rinse, repeat and get dirty . . . rinse, repeat and get dirty . . .

Holes in Delusions

In a grave a deep as my hands could dig,
I placed my ragged demon doll.
She is stuffed with evil and clothed in lies,
There was no goodbye, just a thud.

Now, as clean as my foul flesh can become,
Back to sane, I trace a dirt path.
I can hear her laugh from beneath the earth,
And it hurts not to laugh along.

 A fresh angel graces my reborn frame,
Her face as soft as her movement.
I tear out her stuffing, pluck her blue eyes,
Fill her with evil and clothe her in lies.

With a gleaming bright candle and spade,
I trudge that path to the hungry grave.
The place at my core; a craving unleashed.
Will there be peace when it’s full and complete?

How many demons must one man defeat?

Author's Note

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Reviews

[Kristina Moulaison]

Love the imagery of the little demon dolls that you have to bury.
"I can hear her laugh from beneath the earth,
And it hurts not to laugh along."
If you could see me rolling my head back and forth...it's really all I can say. Gosh!
I'm going to bury my envy now.

[Honeypot]

Wonderful poem. Its raw and edgy as most of your poetry that I've read is. It seems to be full of futility and frustration for things that remain unchanged. I'm always impressed by your work.

[lawrence bear]

sounds like you have many dolls that torment you my friend.
a dark poem, but its genuine. you too have a chucky doll you cant get rid of.
pure and simple. nice one