Poetry

It just rolled off my back Into the belly, it snapped At last A path is forged The sword, adorned To slice through The thick stew of voodoo On this apocalypse carousel. Knotted dreams Broken seams Stitching a patch over a holy gap. Gaping mouth Teeth pulled out Saliva dripping into newfound stitching Licking the wound Stinging at high noon Sun scorching, The flower bloomed. It’s painful to open to a heart that’s been broken Enough has been spoken Between the lines I heard the signs the mind refused to ride on the Apocalypse carousel. I wish it could be