Look at me
I am the misery of a hundred chained lions
The toil of a hundred caged doves
The lament of a hundred dying crickets
And all of those roars, those strangled songs, those insistent yet dying cricket notes
They live within, they live within.

Look at me
I am the raped soul of a red forsaken woman
The diseased bruise on her red scraped wrists
The tangled lock of her red torn hair
And they lie on the cobbled ground of the fort where innocence breathed its last
They live within, they live within.

Look at me
I am the nagging probe checking your heart
The ticking thought-bomb threatening your brain
The nauseous green lurking in your inverted guts
And the nagging, the ticking, my nauseating smell that makes you hate me so
They live within, they live within.

Look at me
Look at me
Look at me

I am the refuse of your consciousness.

2 thoughts on “The Refuse

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