infinity lost

broken pens and empty hearts

blank pages, and wandering darts

sweet dreams and bitter tarts

stinking life and chickeny starts

stories heavy as the moon

weighing down on the earth

you’re a stained motherfucker

that guilt that pain, mother fucker

rotating to remind me,

that i’ve been such a heartless bastard

Now the dreams wake up themselves

blue ribbons in their heads

and smeared bed sheets, that stink of promiscuity

visible pain and determined obscurities

i take a snap at my own religion

for being so fucking religious

it’s not fucking possible to live stray nowadays

by the time i finished my ravages

she looked at me like i was a savage 

a cannibal, misplace in front of her

her judgement astounding, I lock my heart with her

and by the end of the poem

she said-  ”it’s all good but… 

don’t call the moon a motherfucker !”

 

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