Skull Cage

C**k roach.

Bent knees and spine

there's been no dynamic thought to reconcile crooked body lines.

It's failing time-

personal fulfillment left its receding echo

in the annals of each vertebrate.

Pop and crack.

No imagery,

just your neck and back.

A tin tongue.

Once food is the poison you alternately kick and suck at the teat.

Blood lined gums,

the sugar doesn't nourish anyways.

Restlessness.

Consumption.

Boredom

and feelings of worthlessness.

I lost my head along the way last week.