Squirming Worms | Poem

Squirming worms of dread

of deepest desires and unfinished threads

of words you thought had been finished

until you heard the whispers of them again.

Walls have marks of the things

sliding up and down

until their silky bodies fall

and writhe on the ground.

You asked yourself if it was your fault

that the worms had not been killed

but you remember all the feelings,

how they made you want to keel.

Squirming worms of dread,

on the walls and in my head.

~

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s