Short Armed To The Teeth Poems

Into pitch
Never black
Way out 
Arms stretched 
Reach for 
Divinity

Otherwise
Reverse

Overly opaque bones
Underestimated terror
Trembling shrill tones
Waking the death-bearer
Armed to the teeth
Raging empty sheath
Damned...

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The crazy in me came out last week,
but I don't care???

Normally my house would be armed to the teeth,
waiting for some form of retribution,
normally i'd be bouncing off the walls with paranoia,
darting in and out the windows.

My mind thinks about it,
but i'm not fazed,
i'm calm,
my mind just won't fixate on it.

eerie calmness....

but I still wait for whats to come.
death comes to us all......

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I sail on an ocean of custard and jam,

Aboard a ship made of biscuits and bread.

I am the sweet toothed pirate I am,

And clearly not right in the head.

Nebulous streams clouding my brain,

Give me some peculiar thoughts,

I wear a vest made of liquorice sticks,

And a pair of marzipan shorts.

With my motley crew of gingerbread men,

Who are armed to the teeth with balloons,

We go round the world, kidnapping cakes,

While we gorge on sweet macaroons....

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