I feel suffocated...
blinded...
nauseous.
Staring aimlessly
at the flickering light.
Unsure of where its coming from.
A bitter taste in my mouth,
That angers my mind.
Brings tears to my eyes...
So sick and tired
Of the claustrophobic,
Social bullshit.
My puzzle is falling apart,
I'm sure I'm missing a few pieces...
I tell myself,
Keep participating
In the smiling charade.
No-one can see
The seams are staring to pull...
And no-one can see tears,
or frustration,
In the dark.
Author notes
I'm not normally dark like this but sometimes we all have days (and weeks) like this. I really just needed to vent!
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 7 of 7
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this is so great keep up the awesome wor
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beautiful write, can certainly relate...leaf
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"So sick and tired
Of the claustrophobic,
Social bullshit"
I totaly understand what you mean. Very well writen and excelent flow. You chose every word perfectly bringing together the peice very well. Interstinng ideas here and very easy to follow along with the emotional state of this poem. All and all a great write! Keep up th excelent work! -
Good vent, Tez. I think you really made people see what you were talking about on this poem, because I could definitely tell. I liked this poem because it was very good, had nice flow and good wording... but I would change small things about it.
Keep up the good work! -
truly we do. Vent away babes!! You need to, it's perfectly normal and don't put up a charade, be who you are and fuck social limitations. It's better thay way . All the best and much love <3
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I like how this poem appeals to the senses, intended or not. 'suffocated, blinded, nauseous, bitter taste, claustorphobic'. I get an overwhelming closed-in feeling, and that the person inside is feels out of control as it is all falling apart. Great write, thanks for sharing your work.
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Promise...sing
"So sick and tired
Of the claustrophobic,
Social bullshit."
drawn to the providential unexpected occurences it is tempting to read between the lines, especially when composititions hovering between prose and poetry systematically retain capital letters at the beginning of each line.
In the context of the stanza above one presumes fortuitous the S.O.S. derived from the first line letters yet how apt at times, unbeknownst to both writer and most readers, is the way the puzzle pieces may fall into place.
Context /content coherency is maintained well while awaiting light at the end of the proverbial tunnel.
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