Bite

I take the morning
in my teeth
and bite down
to tear it
from the rest of the day.
I spit it out
and stomp it down
before it bursts into flame
and catches me
and the world on fire.
I want another taste,
but today’s gone stale.

About Catastrophe Jones

Wretched word-goblin with enough interests that they're not particularly awesome at any of them. Terrible self-esteem and yet prone to hilarious bouts of hubris. Full of the worst flavors of self-awareness. Owns far too many craft supplies. Will sing to you at the slightest provocation.
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Go ahead -- say something. Anything.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.