Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

I commit seppuku on blank paper,
spill my guts onto its pristine emptiness
stark and bloodied words fall out
mix with my warm entrails

these wounds are never healed
they open every time I feel
they open every time I write

they open me to what flows
through my mind,
into my heart
coursing the rivers of my being
on the way
to your eyes.

2009

We all "spill our guts" from time to time...
Sometimes, what we spill comes out shiny,
like this poem of yours. Keep posting 'em!

all i can say is Halleluja to spilling guts....

i like yur work

hey Perdida, enjoyed your spilling. smiles

break on thru