Braindead

lead in the blood

heavy melancholy 

this mental fatigue

a petrol cocktail and soiled rag

a knife with no handle or edge

eyes like windows painted red

and feet made of paper glass

with splinters for fingers

and nails in the cracks

split in twine

I'm a pair

(a sight)

a shambling horror

dragging

its needy knuckles 

 across the cluttered floor