Memory On a Couch.
some one told me this piece of him:
that his mind fills every day with
images of his body,
ripped and destroyed,
on freeways,
in fires-
without emotion or reverie.
flying off cliffs
with no head and
bleeding genitals-
a daily silent film.
Copyright © Natalie Vee | Year Posted 2010
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment