Reach into soul,
grab, struggle, tear away
slimy shark skin,
pulverized disc of gray harm,
throw on egg-shaped platter
Mother left for stabbing,
for holding the wicked
substances that survive slaughter.
She designed the shivering blob
from years not good enough,
from carcasses of worth,
her platter with ego canals
accommodated with straitjacket.
Platter purposed in red, hurry,
fill the shell, home of fear,
with warm purple fruits of love.
Praying for enough fruit, seeking
fruit, eradicating fear and her slime.
Wednesdays arrive so fast for the folks at One Shot Wednesday, but I would like to join again even though I am late already on a Tuesday. 🙂