Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Wart

Warts
cover my hands
my finger tips
a dull pain

Scratchy, bloody
expanding cancers
they hurt
and never find relief

Mend the wounds
my secret
little wounds

At night
a cracking leaf is
a death sentence
so is the lingering stench
of cigarette butts

Put them out
hid them
my little warts
my little cancer

So many things to cover up
so hard to rid
for every one
i've killed
three more have taken root

Weeds
unwanted
unfair, and fair
consequences natural
and artificial

I have a hard time holding it in
the little tumors are building up
inside of me

I'm way beyond medicines
of a traditional sort

Stay quiet
for the day of reckoning approached

The little electric swirls
spinning violently in my sleep

The warts are but a visible tip
of a rotted iceberg

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