My Poetry

A Pantoum on Infestation

The burgundy bugs crawl all around in my brain. Dancing under the pink meat of my face. Their little sticky, sinister feet march again and again. If I wasn’t insane I’d probably feel the bass   of their feet dancing under the pink meat of my face. Chomping on the raw insides of my cheeks… Continue reading A Pantoum on Infestation

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