Severed from him,
In the grave gaps Iโ€™m trapped
The jagged moon rock drags jet black
Like the color of his hair, that my fingers will never wrap
Death…oh woe…the psyche shivers;
So they poured shellac
Bottled away in this thymus madhouse
Anguish is my noun


7 thoughts on “Strip

  1. I know Iโ€™ll never fully experience that homeland loss. But I wanted to voice my compassion towards the suffering. And I always felt that if you lose someone you love is losing your home. Iโ€™m sure you deeply understand.
    Thanks for your comments ๐Ÿ’›


  2. Yeah I donโ€™t rhyme a lot in my poetry. I like rhyming but my style is always drifting. I suppose Iโ€™m most confessional in my style. I felt childhood loss too in this piece. I think Iโ€™m mixing two raw emotions here. I donโ€™t know if they are conflicting or complimenting each other.
    Like always Iโ€™m very pleased you liked it!


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