Encephalitis
Shutter to think of truth
Slivers of faith and glass
Ashes land on my tongue
This land is not the last
Stutter and utter words
These that thine thou wouldst save
Make fun of having fun
When we are all afraid
Here in my coma eye
Better to burn the truth
Ashes land on my lungs
The sweet sickly smell of truth
Drown and still air comes in
Poison dipped poison skin
Heroin in her mouth
Eyes like the back of south
Psion and I am sane
Your words still haunt my name
But I am safer now
I am too weird to bow
poem by Jamie Dewyer
Added by Poetry Lover
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