Me? Write a poem? No...
Yeah, I kinda modified a scene I wrote into a poem, and then read it at the poetry slam last Thursday. I suck at poetry and usually try hard to avoid it, so this is a big deal. It has no title. Deal.
She screams and screams and screams
Screams �til ears ring
Of rhythmic pulses
Pounds and sounds
Searing skull
Mascara-black tears
Streak
Down cheek
Off chin
On skirt,
Splotch-stained
Eyes blur and burn
Sting and smart
From salty pools
Tiny wells
Overflowing
Her face hot as hell
Screams resonate
Of stand-up bass strings strumming
Amp turned high
Inner ear fluid drumming
Crashing, thrashing
She screams and screams and screams
And cannot stop screaming
Cannot stop screaming
Cannot stop screaming
She screams and screams and screams
But screams are not enough
Tears are not enough
Crescents carved
In trembling arms
From fingernail�s frustration
Are
Not
Enough
Tears dry to cheeks
Salty streaks
That itch and flake
Crusty lower lashes
Plaster to skin
Eyes blink
Then gaze, glazed
At knife and hand�s dance duet
Floating, seconds from skin
Cool metal entices
Slices
And she feels no pain
Lips curl to so small a smile
Warmth of blood-thicker-than-tears
Trickles, tickles
Scarred skin
before - after
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