Scares Sore

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Scares sore
Seep, with delicate trickle

Quivering, tickling

I sleep with open wounds

Mother told me ‘Never’

A curse – you will perish like the wound that scales

In my heart

You will be just there. No where.

I sleep

Nightmares circling

Momentous whirlpool

Voices of mother prophesying

You will degenerate

Unkempt, scabbied

Old, haggard, house flies droning playing a merry game

Around the trickling sore

I lay

Like a thin, abandoned, cobweb

Hanging from a haunted house

Obscure of human contact

Voices echo a whirlpool

In chronology

Of penultimate events

Prophesies of doom

Mother

I am

I will be

I exist

Caught in insanity like a common cold

Running nose

No sanity can redeem you

Bacterial infection infectious

I sleep

Souring puss

Oozes through the bedding

Leaving marks of virgin stains

Stains

Trickle from my face

Arms breasts

Stomach vagina

Voices echo

Mother I cry

I cry for innocence

I cry against the bleeding, the rupture, the stain, the sore

Mother I cry

The prophesy turned true

Sleep befalls the souring eyes

You will perish

Mark my words

A faint frail woman ghostly

Appears and disappears

In the trickling caverns

~*~*~