Saturday, 12 February 2011

My Death

A head filled with explosive force,
And the searing, scolding heat
Filling from the rear;
The second instance and the second sign.

The dull dark throbbing, in the night
Paralysed and blind but still awake;
Matter, skull and bone spill out,
Tired and overworked guttering.

The last watcher switches on a T.V,
And the swelling climaxes
In black silent heat;
Then there is nothing.
I awake. Then there is nothing.

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