It’s been a rough few days, and it’s for absolutely no reason other than my inability to handle emotions like a functioning human being.
Squelch and puck
go the bloodied corpses I tread on,
go the shattered thoughts and prone emotions
strewn across my mind.
Slurping noses, popping ears, and moist eyes
dominate the soundscape in that bliss of death,
and there comes a high,
a soft grey moment of clarity.
I can look above and past the blood and ruin.
Squelch and puck.
Sounds of the aftermath.