I never expected to be loved
There are some shortcomings
And here I am
Still
Stuck in a glue trap
“Flesh imbued with pain.”
Heart doesn’t care anymore,
It barely pumps blood
And I hear it
Function like an abandoned beehive
Dust gets in your eyes
Flecks of honey distributed for hedonism.
And
I stare
Into a white tar pit
Evidence of Red Lipstick on the end of a cigarette butt
Craving for a hit
Nicotine oppression
A dream someone had dreamt before,
But the Queen pushes me away.
“These lungs aren’t going to immolate themselves.”
Ash trapped on my beard
The tower is burning
The entity free falls
No soft landing, tainted by love.
Ribcage is a prison,
And I’ve been institutionalized.
Leave my scrawl marks behind,
I don’t have any good memories to share.
(C) A.R. Minhas 2019
