Like a Lanced Beast

One day, one way,
there will be only me.

Lurking memories
will sleep.

My self-hurting
tendencies
will have reaped
whatever things they needed
to keep.

Their feast!

Yes,
they feed
on the pieces of me
that seep
like a lanced beast.

But, I can’t weep…
not anymore, at least,
because I’ve no meat
left to leave the beasts,
as they lurk, unceasing.

Picked clean
(my bones are me)
and clattering,
they will rest

at ease.


©️CGT, 2018.

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