Among by A.g. Synclair


They appear in moments of silence

in the maddening tick

of another dim day

a small pebble in your shoe

brings an assassination

a firing squad

a hanging

monsters under the bed

want you dead

rotting among the ruins of other men

among the debris in your ribcage

in the crumble of decaying lives

to replace you would be victory

so you open the windows at night

sleep on a small stone set to music

in the house where you live your life fiercely

among assassins

among angels

among monsters

among milestones

among fragments that become small gifts

like apples

like sleep

like carbon.

a black line

More poetry from Winamop

Copyright reserved. Please do not reproduce without consent.