What ails you?
My back hurts the guilt has spread its bony wings
Dissolved throats regurgitating acid
A cup spills that orange substance
And the stomach lining touched with rust
It is only an irritation
A flesh wound Arteries make a body
“I don’t feel a heart anymore”
I lost it in that blue confession room
Along with the goddess that lived there
It was I who tortured it…
What ails you?
I haven’t hated myself enough
But suicide is not good enough
Too cynical for apologies,
But alienated enough to sink underground
Lynchian Stillness
There aren’t moments I hope
Only events I regret
I want to fight this discomfort
But I have become too use to this
Feeling like this
These are my ailments.
© A.R. Minhas 2016
(Unrequited love isn’t curable but you can live with it– in discomfort)
Share this:
Discover more from A.R. Minhas
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
Beautiful
Thank you!! 😃
This is awesome!
Hi I’ve nominated you on black cat blue sea award, check out on my post! I hope you happy to participate 😊
Hi alicynna…thank you so much for that will definitely check it out…Thanks! 😃
Most welcome, looking forward for your participate 😉