What I’ve Done

A burrowing thing
has made its way
into the inner chamber,
feasts on my thoughts,
chews its way back
through my history.

The past bursts
loudly in my head,
its shells cracked,
its fruit nibbled.

What was I?
Monster or saint?
My new thoughts
stuff the ashes of the old
in urns of wasted brain matter.

What am I now?
Red-veined eyes.
Crimson lips.
Blood-soaked talons.
Only my master
saw this coming.

John Grey


John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident. Recently published in Front Range Review, Studio One and Columbia Review with work upcoming in Naugatuck River Review, Abyss and Apex and Midwest Quarterly.  

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