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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Adult · #2032952
18+ a trippy poem about pulling out my guts, my words, and lettings others poke around.

- My Inner Out Mare-
by Keaton Foster
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On the table
My guts
Just nuts
Bits and pieces
Of who I am
What I’ve become
All of it
Spread out wide
Each part exposed
Every role
Now quite known
An increasingly dull blade
In my steady hand
Like a skilled surgeon
Like a proficient madman
Never was I forced
In this
Or any other way
I did what I did
Little is the regret
Mountains of others things
Are pilled upon this chest
Laboring is every breath
My jaded heart
Pumps blood like oil
The veins in this body
Ruptured atrocities
Leaving me
As pale as death
As weak as sin
This
My inner out mare
Is now quite free
For all to dare see
Some will come
A greater distance
Others will move closer
Just a few will scream
As they run
In the other direction
A thing of tragic beauty
Has been revealed
All that I’ve ever penned
Has been pulled out
Strewn about
Poked with sticks
Picked up
Slammed back down
My rotting corpse
Will no doubt be accosted
Raped of any and all
Remaining usage
Only then will
My inner out mare
Remain
In this place of ends
In this wilderness of words
Created by me
And my maladjusted
Mind, body, and soul…

My Inner Out Mare
Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2015.

© Copyright 2015 Keaton Foster: Know My Hell! (keatonfoster at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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