Overflow Poem by Miguel Chicas

There's a flirty storm in my pocket.
Growing soothingly throughout the days
Attached onto my ashen tangled arteries.
I'm feeling very afraid of what it can think.
As it slowly crawls into my decisions.
Eating off what used to make sense.
I'm so sick of having no spine to sleep on.
To seek answers that became problems.
Rapidly devouring what's left of me.
Leaving spits of taint into my thoughts.
My crying hand dives into the chasm.
The hand knows it's a dangerous play.
On my palm, lies a livid glum key.
Day of birth blended on one side.
Key molds itself to an option.
The key glues onto my temple.

©Michael C 2015