This is you

Gothic_wallpaper_1

This is non-poem poem. I don’t know anything about poetry technically. I did in year eleven. I knew all about stanzas and beat and all of that crap. I don’t know about it anymore though. And I rarely write it.

For example, I don’t know if I’m allowed to use a comma. How dumb is that? I am unsure of the layout. I changed it around a lot. Not the words, but the layout and how they are spaced.

I absolutely love poetry though. I love reading it. Some of my favourites are Poe, Sylvia Plath, Charles Bukowski, Andrew Marvell, and Maya Angelou.

So, anyway, here is some poetry that I am deeply uncertain about sharing but, whatever, I’m sharing it anyway. It is the internet afterall. There is no end of awful poetry here.┬áIt’ll be one amongst many.

You hold my heart.

Hand down my throat, choking.

You pull it out, view that frantic beating.

You stuff me in the shredder.

I come out as confetti and dance in the air.

You stomp all over me, drive me into the ground.

You tear the eyes from my sockets, poke pinholes through the pupils so no light can get in.

I explode in the dark.

I explode, I explode and still your hands are all over me, in me, tearing me apart.