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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Once again, its up to you.

Submitted: January 14, 2012

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Submitted: January 14, 2012

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Riddles and Rhymes fill my innards with vomit. Regurgitation of teachers teachings and students learnings. The crimson thirst for freedom consumes my consciousness while the maggots of time squander in my innocence. Infantile worries flutter as constraints of necessity settle. Phantoms of yesterday linger, as I reminisce my zombies. Not undead due to the fact they want breath, they need the sensation of sucking life from already lifeless beings. The smell of ignorant rotting flesh, their gurgling breath crawling up my spine. Despite my pulse providing the pink in my cheeks, and the oxygen allowing my thought we share detestation for all things easy and pleasurable. Malice, abhorrence and revulsion creep through my oily veins, conducting my outstanding rippling purr. You may see the Jester's allusion, but you will never comprehend the context.


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