blood of the unknown

everything is on the line
while we lie everything is fine
but the water is up the knees now
and the smoke is filling our lungs
but we still manage to speak somehow
whispering in alien tongues
the sharks have smelled the blood

the circle is getting smaller

and we are trapped in each other's arms

alive, yet suffocating

the kiss of life, becomes kiss of death

as we whisper sweet lies

to make the poison palatable

The Bastard

The stink that rises from the city

A souvenir of the world left behind

For no matter where we go, a pity

We fill the sewers in our mind

The grinder in the gut, churning

The pain and discomfort, melt into one

The dumpster fire of thoughts, burning

Shadows dance to eclipse the sun

Waking up wrapped in needles and pins

Covered in the stink of an alien reflection

Black book, black ink, jotting down the sins

Blood, sweat, tears, come all in one

The whispered prayers go unanswered

The fog now covers the ground for miles

The roads forgotten, engine swerved

The bastard in the rear view mirror smiles

----

I left this unwritten for the longest time. I guess every poem needs to gestate.