Erin Thomas

Rookie (Riverside, California)

Pulp - Poem by Erin Thomas

They made his mind a molding mess
A slow and solemn nest of thought
A brooding storm of deep distress

Confusion ruled his darkened heart
Enraged at what his mind became
A slow and solemn nest of thought

As reason weakened and decayed
He bashed his limbs and tore his flesh
Enraged at what his mind became

His anguish flared a bitter flame
When it would surge with burning force
He bashed his limbs and tore his flesh

He wished for death with yearnings fierce
A wish he never could perform
When it would surge with burning force

He longed to leave his broken form
Destroyed by psychiatric drugs
A wish he never could perform

The poisons flowed within his blood
They made his mind a molding mess
Destroyed by psychiatric drugs
A brooding storm of deep distress

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

Completed May 5,2004.
Published in The Awakenings Review in Summer of 2007.


This is a terzanelle poem.

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, July 20, 2013

Poem Edited: Monday, July 22, 2013


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