so tired...
my fingers twitch and scribble
aching to communicate the sheer vastness of this void
this mismatch, polymers rejecting one another
in heady vicious cycles
i need to tell you how nothing fills me
how hours bleed to darkness bleed to day
and my eyes still see nothing in eternity
i need to show you where i left the peices
of my so called soul, how i hid them
so carefully, out of reach
out of sight and out of mind
now lost.
cancer eats me from the inside, weakening
brawn and bone to icy sludge, lights gone out
and a brain in agony
will you trace the patterns on my skin?
this is giving up, hatred, rejection
when i slit you, when you bled across my chest
drenching me in life lost, in weeping sorrow
was it your welfare i defended?
and now do you see the reckless abandon,
the evil, the sickness
do you see the utter selfless thing i am?
Author notes
"What lingered after them was not life, which always overcomes natural death, but the most trivial list of mundane facts: a clock ticking on a wall, a room dim at noon, and the outrageousness of a human being thinking only of herself." -The Virgin Suicides
note: i am absolutely not suicidal. please don't get the wrong idea
A contest entry
- there's gonna be a knife fight in china town. by bird-mad girl.
1750 points, ended September 8, 14 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
what do you think?
Comments
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I thought the being of this piece was kind of cliche. like that "left the pieces of my so called soul" I don't know. there are more interesting way to describe the feelings of being lost and hollow and I felt like I've already read this words a thousand times.
however I liked the emotion switch. it went from self-pity to this self-anger. but with the anger, I felt it got too aggressive by the end. the bitterness was almost overbearing.
thank you for entering.
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