All that's left Is the grits of my past,
eroded by the tide of anxiety.
Swallowed back like salt-crystals
shrivelling my insides.
What a tasty meal i'll make.
All seasoned and hollowed out,
pink flesh ripe with goosebumps.
Ready for the wolves.
| God, yes. Now this is what I call angst!|
Loved the imagery, the detail to what the writer's feeling and their intentions at hand - all in such a short verse, as well! Kudos for using your words both wisely & appealingly, no matter how distasteful the concept may be.
|| Posted on 2015-08-19 00:00:00 | by MyPeriodical | [ Reply to This ] || Hmm depending upon how you mean that. I'd say nay. Personally, do have relative anxiety, but generally have a way around it. I'd be careful with those wolves though. Be safe.||| Posted on 2015-08-10 00:00:00 | by cornonthekob | [ Reply to This ] |