CemeterySound Poetry

o'queery · 09-29-2013, 12:59 PM

Does He Dig? ~

I am six
feet below

Smelling the earth
between these college
ruled lines

Tethered to the
warriors
of word

Holding sugar
laced breath while
You read my obituary

Awaiting the procession

The Moon glows bright
filtering into the
cracks of my tomb

No poetic death here

Love and decay
remains in
the artist

With brittle quills
I scratch against
the lid

Body blooming and
shaking at You
seeing me alive
here at my wake

Someone must have
fúcking found me

I slide my fingers over
the pointy nails
That seal me inside..

They must have

09-29-2013, 12:59 PM	#26
o'queery Member How Do You Identify?: serviceboy Preferred Pronoun?: him, hey boy Relationship Status: boyfriend of my joey. <3 Imma lucky bitchboy! Join Date: Feb 2011 Location: Off the Grid Posts: 864 My Photo Gallery Thanks: 1,770 Thanked 1,892 Times in 521 Posts Rep Power: 21474851	in the re Writes <3 Does He Dig? ~ I am six feet below Smelling the earth between these college ruled lines Tethered to the warriors of word Holding sugar laced breath while You read my obituary Awaiting the procession The Moon glows bright filtering into the cracks of my tomb No poetic death here Love and decay remains in the artist With brittle quills I scratch against the lid Body blooming and shaking at You seeing me alive here at my wake Someone must have fúcking found me I slide my fingers over the pointy nails That seal me inside.. They must have __________________ I'm not an artist i'm a fucking work of art