these words I’ve written
bringing out the garbage.
not in bags but inside boxes.
smells so bad.
books and all my bull.
bristles.
barely able to breathe.
baked in butane.
burning it all into oblivion.
banished borders.
barriers.
brine and bristle.
bursting.
buried in the backyard.
benign, yet blasphemous.
bouts of boredom begin again.
blended with bacteria.
biting at my brain.
a billion bits of alphabet.
but none is ever submit.
betting I’ll never be bred again.
bed beckons.
but there’s a therein.
biting.
bleeding out in barometers.
blisters.
blasting me for a burial of bliss.
besides what’s better?
borderline or bipolar?
not sure anymore about it.
breaking bullets.
bits of bone in a barrel.
but I’ll begin again.
bustling.
bludgeoning.
blossoming.
becoming a beast like beating.
breath bleating.
retreating into the bleak.
black holes.
buttoning up my best dress.
breast beading.
leading to a baked out feeling.
no one believes in.
bibles on the battalion bar.
brittle from the battle but bustling.
by the by I’ll buy it all back.
then pry it open from behind.
it’ll be back.
brackish but boiling like butter.
brother doesn’t bother.
before it breaks into bitty bits.
bit into by the bitten.
backstabbing.
besting all others besides Bukowski.
perhaps Blake.
for Christ’s sake baptized.
but bound by some Beelzebub.
blessed be the blind.
because they know not beauty.
but it’s 6 a.m. baby.
is that our breakfast baking?
eggs Benedict and bacon.
biscuits with gravy.
it’s all over anyway but the blues—
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
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
