Trench

Trench

Going to break all these bones,
jumped in my deepest trench.
Inner seeping blackness groans,
torso’s heaves, takes in the stench.

Dragged on sharpness, sliding down,
flayed scalp wearing plight’s face.
Crevasse wind is death’s own sound,
claw marks on walls, a previous trace.

Black ragged glistening is not water,
shed during each past self slaughter.
Stone fists collude with my velocity,
can’t bleed enough for self atrocity.

EaS