deepundergroundpoetry.com
Until I am Free
Cold house, no sound
Ticking clocks, time counts down
Mortality rings, we pay it no heed
For voices there is no need
Empty stomach, swells
Puking at flavorful smells
Don't need to eat when you can't breathe
Can't breathe, there's no need
Tears spill, words wrung out
No sound, no shout
Letters strung together to please
No sign of what's underneath
I don't want to be home
There is nothing there but dry bones
And bonds, broken
No words spoken
None that mean anything important
There is nothing constant
Not in that house, with no sound
And clocks counting down
Ticking clocks, time counts down
Mortality rings, we pay it no heed
For voices there is no need
Empty stomach, swells
Puking at flavorful smells
Don't need to eat when you can't breathe
Can't breathe, there's no need
Tears spill, words wrung out
No sound, no shout
Letters strung together to please
No sign of what's underneath
I don't want to be home
There is nothing there but dry bones
And bonds, broken
No words spoken
None that mean anything important
There is nothing constant
Not in that house, with no sound
And clocks counting down
Published 25th Dec 2016
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reading list entries 0
comments 4
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The author encourages honest critique.
25th Dec 2016 3:44am
Inking is evocative and moving, articulation I've found in my opinion very compelling indeed! Hit the like button not coz I enjoy pain, instead for the fact that how well this is done poetically. Moving indeed
25th Dec 2016 6:08am
25th Dec 2016 11:01am
6th Jan 2017 8:05am
