Death of a poem

So many words

A world of words

I inhabit

Yet I can’t find

The one word

That’d define

How I feel

At this moment in time

Writing poetry

Like committing adultery

Splits your mind

Its gentle touch

Scorches the soul

Explores hidden desires

Ends it all

In a climactic confession

Dissect mercilessly

This poet’s cadaver

Leaving comments

Like scavenging maggots

And I’ll gather

Those creepy crawlies

Treasure them under my shirt

Close to my bosom

Repelled, are you?

By the way that I puke

These words of mine

That wouldn’t come to me

In the very beginning

But here they are now

Donning little black dresses

At this poem’s funeral