Mouthful of Precious Stones

Fed through the teeth machine. Row after row of

dysmorphic minerals.

All the things that I have seen, drowning in my

reflection.

Bleed from sores that reach out to everyone in the room.

Touched by sepsis, cradled in a mountain of bone.

I pretend not to notice that we belong in the same room.

We touch the same door handle and drink from the same

fountain.

I'm repulsed. Sickening drive to cultivate loathing.

I dishonest nod and grin as we pass in the streets.

Eater! Nashing pit full of bracing. Tangled in a tortured

sickness.

Search your soul. Unlock the treatures.

Crossing through those pearly gates that exit to that

special place.

We belong in the same room. Smiling in my reflection.

Bound tight by nerve endings and veins; Wound just like

nooses.

To dissuade my confusion.

We touch the same door handles and drink from the same

fountain.

I am repulsed by this mouthful of precious stones.