i wanted to create something beautiful
but the colors aren’t singing to me today
instead i shall fold myself inward
and collapse over the scrawl of monochrome
always inserting itself so vehemently
into the background noise of my life
and that word
is growing more hackneyed
and grotesque with every use
like wither
like worm
like blood and glass
heart and scream
and the myriad of variations
that they can swing
like me
as nothing
no thing
no eye
i can see only what lies before me
in the immediacy
and it’s all vindictively fictitious
a joke
the struggle to get beyond
what can be touched


About Moly

Average, boring, self-involved human. Twitter: @CultOfCocktails Facebook:
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s