A Virus | Poems that Suck

 It used to be my phone
 that I carried around, 
 in hopes that you'd
 call or, 
 like or, 
 comment - 

 All that meaningless bullshit that we
 equate with love, affection, and respect. 

 Now, it's this little book
 and the words have not 
 stopped pouring forth;
 like lancing
 a boil, 
 all the 
 blood, and
 pus and
 are coming out. 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: