Ditch the ads, upload images and much more - upgrade today from 5.95/month!
Read • Contests • Groups • Learn • Forums • Store • Help
 

All the Small Things



I find refuge in small spaces
where I can breathe in air
rotting in its stale confines,
away from eyes and mirrors
that dig a deeper grave
than the throbbing passion
resting in my abdomen.

    I plan to revise this poem: please leave constructive criticism!
    : , Your review:

    Comment Suggestion: What is your your first impression?
    • Line numbers  • Invite them to read
    : no Cost: 0 free left 0 points, You have (?)

Comments


  • StarEyes
    January 3, 2009

    Edit | Reply
    Chelli,

    this, this is just wow!!!! What a read! there is alot in this one darling! WOW!

    Ek is lief vir jou altyd

    Mom

  • a n e s t h e s ia
    January 3, 2009

    Edit | Reply
    "than the throbbing passion
    resting in my abdomen."


    Great imagery as always, I don't know where the hell you get it from.

    Lines 5 and 6. . you know, . close, painful. . effective. All the mirrors were actually taken out of the house once lol-- somewhat literal, somewhat extreme. Very annoying, but that's my family. .

    I love reading your stuff, intense as it is.


  • lowercase prelude gold member
    January 2, 2009

    Edit | Reply
    wow
    that is some awesome imagery
    when i saw your title, i instantly thought of the blink-182 song

    but anyways, this was well penned
    and a delight to read