Human Form (The)
Red Tissue Pulls the bones
that all men know and own
Organs push the body
through
the daily processes
too
Twitches and contractions
they all work in factions.
blood bleeds through bloated veins
it all smells exactly
the same
to me,
Muscle memory remembes my actions
and pulls me through without my interaction
and I act without thinking, as I always do
a creator of cruelty, the human form.
👁 4💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.