by Bobby Burton
Strange... the sensations a photograph bring to you. (Poem)
|It glares back at me. A bullet.
Sharp memory piercing my chest.
The dark thoughts began breeding.
My mind begins bleeding. Racking
My jealous, lonely, imperfect body with pain.
Happiness staring back at me
Disgusts me. Torments me.
Ridicules me. Jealous me?
Who cares. Tear. Rip. Shred. Bin.
My memories. Filled with Sin.