Rats

Poetry to scratch your eyes out to.

Colorblind and crying in the light.

Broken bottle beds, Wrapped in layers of flesh cut from you, cut from bone, luring out blossoming blight.

Dust left to settle within the walls, mixing with spiteful spit somewhere closer to venom.

Nail grooves left in rot, drawn in sand will mark our finite rites cast antebellum.

Plague ridden rats.

Writhe behind my eyes, fill the holes you left in flesh, signed in burned and pockmarked biomass.

Festering fingers push through me like wet mud.

Squirming little guts I kept secret, drowned in corrupted blood.

puncture pustules you left between my rotten rat teeth, if you please.

A hair between anticipation and fulmination, Rat king Damocles.

Amputate the plague I cultivate in our soil.

Decomposing, pathetic me I let you embroil.

Carrier,

bearer of plague, Eyes locked; we chose to share her.

Life within your walls, feast upon the poison you feed.

Photo by freestocks on unsplash and edited by me.