Waste

by limp   Jun 27, 2008


I've thought so many times
of my mother's ill-informed prognosis
must it take this morphed timing
will she notice my ketosis.
the dampened footprints waddle
in those insignificant dreams
skintight inside of this diving bell
fingernails to the bone;
scratching at the seams.
an eternal struggle wet like cement
unformed, unoriginal, grey
i sit inside like a lonely outsider
trying to deafen my eyes from their prey
glass shards fill this racist heart
so opposed yet touching all black
and when i don't fit into double zero clothes
i wonder if you'll ever look back

    report violation
2


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Latest Comments

  • 15 years ago

    by Prophecies In Kodak

    I truly miss you, and your writing.

  • 17 years ago

    by Nicko

    Congrats, Sorry for not commenting on this earlier but I was on an enforced sabbatical when you wrote this.

    Very deep, very personal, your emotions portrayed very well creating good imagery, the inner sanctum of a family a peculiar place.

    Cheerz Nicko

  • 17 years ago

    by mistressxsork

    Well, that was deff. something. This is my favorite poem for the day. Be proud. Good work!
    Overall Rating: 5/5

    By the way, how are you?

  • 17 years ago

    by PorcelainMoon

    I remember this nice girl.

    good write.

  • 17 years ago

    by Aliah

    Wow. absolutely brilliant. =)

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