deepundergroundpoetry.com
shadowed in cold apathy
Here is I shadowed in cold apathy among the ruins and the stones disfiguring the truth but always the bullets remain in my filtering gun and mind under stains, it's more than minor legacy, the precipice of something even more unauthentic, and should the world know me in truth and less by name still could I never explain the inner combat,these struggles,these wars and priceless bullshit parades,caught in a well of my self-pity,degrading states never self owned,my morbid eye of making.
i belonged to my sorrow as much a part of me as my legs,cast off into private ugly spaces,almost wishful thoughts of oblivion's oblivious oblivion.
I am the contempt that lingers,self restraint inactive,
but no longer to dine on the restrictions of my short comings.
i belonged to my sorrow as much a part of me as my legs,cast off into private ugly spaces,almost wishful thoughts of oblivion's oblivious oblivion.
I am the contempt that lingers,self restraint inactive,
but no longer to dine on the restrictions of my short comings.
Published 20th Apr 2014
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