I hear screams
Of “bleeping murderer"
Taunting me.
In removing
Those stillborn poems
That no longer speak
Or resonate.
Taking up space
As I search
For those lost poems
Seeking closure.
You think
I want to
Do this?
Destroying a sliver
Of my soul
In such a careless
Casual manner.
Marking me
A hideous killer
Deserving to be tarred
And feathered.
As angry shouts
Have accused me
Of being.
Therisa © 2019
Author’s note: Over the past month, I have removed about 20 partial poems, from my
writing file that no longer speak to me, in the need to write, or are long stale to my muse.
writing file that no longer speak to me, in the need to write, or are long stale to my muse.
