Mayhem - Issue One - March 2014
ISSN 2382-0322
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Tim Shipton
Death Rattle
Her voice is a suicide bathtub
It is white spattered with red
It is panting
Exasperation
So fucking blue I can’t breathe
It clacks like a super 8 film reel
A 1950s pre-film countdown
5
4
3
2
1
I squint hard and pray for a spark to ignite the volatile nitrate
Her voice is the creak of the rope
The tips of toes scrambling for the kicked away chair
Like save me
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© Copyright remains with the individual author
Mayhem - Issue One - March 2014
ISSN 2382-0322
___________________________________________________________________________
Like don’t let me die
Like Father forgive me for I know not what I do
It scrapes with the soft cleaving
sweep of a blade
across thin veined skin
Confessions dripping
pouring from the tips of her fingers
Her voice brings me flowers
and burns down
an orphanage
It is the whir of bodies falling from thirty story buildings.
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© Copyright remains with the individual author