panicxxscene

I’ll indite my crude and clumsy rhymes From my place in the pitch dark And will wait all night if needs must For that one creative spark That will manifest thoughts in my mind Into a charged lightning bolt Strike my memories, open my wounds And let writing be my salt So cut me and see the metaphors Floating around my blood stream Pour salt on the literal lesions To punctuate my primal scream As painful at first as the memory But after the initial sting Wounds will heel, leaving only scars Numbness replaces everything This lack of feeling is temporary As a writer I live for the pain Of opening up new abrasions To keep me lucid and sa