In Distress

 

In Distress 

 

I come to you In distress,

like the beast with a thorn

in his heart. It hurts so

much I cannot  even stir. I

am in a mournful mood as if

fatal kisses have struck me

down while my blood pours 

 

out in heavy pools. I cannot

move. I cannot creep. There

is an alien feeling in my soul.

I stay in bed because I can

no longer move. Life is filled

with deceits that leaves you

with nothingness. I come to

you in distress, almost dead.



 

Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozabal 

  

Born in Mexico, Luis lives in California and works in the mental health field in Los Angeles. He is the author of Raw Materials (Pygmy Forest Press), Keepers of Silence (Kendra Steiner Editions), and Make the Water Laugh (Rogue Wolf Press). His poems were published by Ariel Chart, Mad Swirl, Unlikely Stories, and Zygote in my Coffee.

Post a Comment

Previous Post Next Post