sometimes i feel the devil
and his dirty eyes
burning me alive...
inviting me to fall
into a comfortable numb.
but in that numb
a hatred dwells, smirking in the shadows.
i shrug him off and
pretend he isn't there.
my inner madness spills into a
thin black ink.
so you can read
what your eyes
while i sit
spitting thoughts from my fingers.
hurting and feeling.
Jonny Brackney's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Dirty Eyes by Jonny Brackney )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
- Far Traveller Absorb Exotic Sights, Terence G. Craddock
- the yardstick, Marshall Gass
- Market Traveller Moves Unseen, Terence G. Craddock
- Miss Taken, Marshall Gass
- Shipping Container, Marshall Gass
- Smell the Flowers, Joseph Narusiewicz
- Low Performances, Lawrence S. Pertillar
- Trivial Pursuits, Lawrence S. Pertillar
- "These doodles help me...", Jeff Gangwer
- "In a manner of speaking...", Jeff Gangwer