My Poetry, Uncategorized

Talk To You Soon

There will come a time I will ask you if I smell like death.
My life might have started to resemble ripped stitches.
Sometimes the world slaps me so hard it feels like I’ve been cut.
This is the reason I wear makeup so thick.
I vomit while laying on my back, the flies lay eggs in my mouth.
Maybe I will choke or my questioning of death will come out as a gurgle.
Suppose that’s the only way I can get you to answer.

 

-Talk To You Soon

by Kelley Stephens

 

the_agony_of_the_fly_by_deathwish mixed with  flies_on_a_wire__by_lithp

the_agony_of_the_fly_by_deathwish
mixed with
flies_on_a_wire__by_lithp

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