Poems

All I Have Left / Eden Kupermintz

Cruel hand, etched
in gold upon the lace
of my throbbing mess
that is the only
pitiful excuse I have
for a brain.

Violent surge, migrating
thousands of grains
that ride upon the froth
that is the only
shameful semblance I have
for a core.

Mindless purge, excavating
bone-deep throbs of pain
submerged in aching scaffolds
that are the only
tottering structures I have
for a home.

Beckoning pit, crying
acid-born tears
that are lost across
endless spaces that
are the only
thing I have
left
At all.

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