May 21, 2015 Dark, Poetry 0

by Lilly Baxley

Maybe the stuffing was lava,

burning from the inside out

causing all that anger

steaming from base to spout.

Nothing can survive that heat,

the red fire concealed by seems.

Not one soul could last,

not barely long enough to scream.

The thick river burned up everything inside

beneath soft skin, only a void.

To answer your question,

behind my eyes, why is there so much pain?

I’ll tell you,

the burning is driving me insane.

About Lilly Baxley

Stage manager, theater lover, artist in various forms. poetry writer and wannabe killer of zombies! (Michonne in the making)

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