deepundergroundpoetry.com

For Those Whose Heads Have Never Been in Dirty Water

Allow me to relate to you
the feeling of
stagnancy.
 
It's the type of quizzical nightmare
strong enough to make you squirm
after entertaining it
for a moment or two.
It's warm.
Unflowing.
And a stench wafts  
up from it,
caught in the back of your throat
when you breathe through your mouth
and corrosive to the most primal part of your brain
when you breathe through your nose.
 
It's warm.
Unending.
You can do nothing
but wade
and try to forget  
about all of the orifices you have
that probably shouldn't be touching it,
much less soaking in it.
You keep on imagining  
different diseases
mating and dying in it,
being reborn and absorbed  
by your blood;
you keep imagining sheer oceans
of living things
swimming
in it
and smiling
and writhing
out of need for a host.
 
It's drying on some of your skin.
Sticky.
Some of it got into your mouth,
perhaps,
or a few drops slid
into your ear
while you were trying to sleep.
One way or another,
the hot mess of dirty water
inevitably
gets into you,
and it becomes a part of your brain.
It makes a unique little tumor of issues
for you to pick at and analyze
and wallow in.
Your clothes wet and dry with the days and nights
so that no matter what,
you come out smelling like it.
It's a dreadful, lukewarm
plane,
and while you're there,
it has no end.
 
Nothing but you and the water.
 
It is far too shallow to drown.
 
 
 
~
 
Age when written: 16
Written by rowantree
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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