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a poem by Andrew J. Stone


I am the ball of blood rolling down your left leg after a bullet bites it.

I am a page torn from a favorite book to wipe the blood.

I am your broken bones.

I am the thought that attacks your mind in the mental asylum because
you couldn't kill yourself correctly.

I am the gray sky in between two rainbows.

I am laughing like a pair of scissors.

I am the beige band-aid peeling your paper skin.

I am the human head on your front porch that you carved into a pumpkin.

I am your throbbing thumb after you shake hands with a knife.

I am an amusement ride and my name is the electric chair.

I am the blood trailing beneath the door like the spray paint of Christ.

I am nothing.

I am.

© by Andrew J. Stone
Gutter Eloquence Magazine ~ Issue #28 ~ October 2013