Inside the Blood Clot

I scratched my identity

with a worn 1974 penny

I saw moisture dripping

from my divided reflection

Murky colors and shades

of discomfort twitch

Uncontrollable jitters

Apathy is a phobia suspended

over my troubled head

A hemorrhage spread out

from the corners to the end

Lack of intersections and interest

Bent and upended against

paralyzed and indifferent nerves

I saw the gash and blemishes

inside the blood clot

I abandoned the rustic door

and sit inside the character

No one wishes to see exist

7 Comments

  1. Powerful imagery here. This somehow almost perfectly encapsulates how I was thinking and feeling yesterday, as a matter of fact. I’ve read through this six times now, it is that powerful in my mind. Great writing, like always.

    Liked by 1 person

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