deepundergroundpoetry.com
Undone
unwound
chaos swirling
angry clouds buzzing,
coming from somewhere
above my head
trapped in the corner
of this suburban brown sectional,
nondescript, middle-aged magic
that goes with everything;
but, i’m not listening,
i stopped listening
when i realized
your mouth
was full of angry bees
and you forgot
i am fucking allergic;
my face is swollen
and i can barely breathe;
is this what you want
when you come in here?
every time
your world out there
is somehow unkind,
you open your mouth
and unleash their stings
in my face
all at once
untethered
i can’t find sure footing
my face is in the dirt;
you put your heel
on the back of my neck
whenever you think
no one’s looking,
and i think
i’m finally beginning
to acquire the taste
for low places;
at least down here,
i don’t have to fret
no need to strain my neck
looking skyward;
your face is all i ever see
up there, anyway
undone
whatever i was made for
it wasn’t this
the short years
suddenly have long days,
stretching aimlessly
from sunrise to sunset;
i can’t keep track of them
anymore;
my soul aches
and my heart just hurts
in all of these in-betweens;
the witching hour
spent with my addled mind
makes for poor art,
but no one is poorer
than the self-made train wreck
staring back at me
from the bathroom mirror;
that girl is on the edge
of losing her shit
and i’m too tired
to help her
pick it all up,
again
chaos swirling
angry clouds buzzing,
coming from somewhere
above my head
trapped in the corner
of this suburban brown sectional,
nondescript, middle-aged magic
that goes with everything;
but, i’m not listening,
i stopped listening
when i realized
your mouth
was full of angry bees
and you forgot
i am fucking allergic;
my face is swollen
and i can barely breathe;
is this what you want
when you come in here?
every time
your world out there
is somehow unkind,
you open your mouth
and unleash their stings
in my face
all at once
untethered
i can’t find sure footing
my face is in the dirt;
you put your heel
on the back of my neck
whenever you think
no one’s looking,
and i think
i’m finally beginning
to acquire the taste
for low places;
at least down here,
i don’t have to fret
no need to strain my neck
looking skyward;
your face is all i ever see
up there, anyway
undone
whatever i was made for
it wasn’t this
the short years
suddenly have long days,
stretching aimlessly
from sunrise to sunset;
i can’t keep track of them
anymore;
my soul aches
and my heart just hurts
in all of these in-betweens;
the witching hour
spent with my addled mind
makes for poor art,
but no one is poorer
than the self-made train wreck
staring back at me
from the bathroom mirror;
that girl is on the edge
of losing her shit
and i’m too tired
to help her
pick it all up,
again
Published 31st Oct 2019
Author's Note
A rough day.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 8
reading list entries 2
comments 8
reads 477
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
31st Oct 2019 2:27pm
Painfully real. "whatever i was made for
it wasn’t this" many great lines but those stood out to me. Hope your day gets better 🤗
it wasn’t this" many great lines but those stood out to me. Hope your day gets better 🤗
31st Oct 2019 2:46pm
31st Oct 2019 3:54pm
Damn.........!
Your description of a rough day..........life
the way You spilled this had me on the day trip with You from beginning to end
as i suppose we all have days / lives like this
Looking forward to the brief happy incidents
Your description of a rough day..........life
the way You spilled this had me on the day trip with You from beginning to end
as i suppose we all have days / lives like this
Looking forward to the brief happy incidents
31st Oct 2019 4:28pm
I like to think we all have them; it makes me feel less alone to think so, anyway. Thank you for reading, Tallen 💜
Anonymous
- Edited 8th May 2020 8:45pm
31st Oct 2019 4:54pm
<< post removed >>
Agree with Hrshykss, the visual descriptors give shape to the emotional emanations. Well apportioned stanzas. I hear you. <3
31st Oct 2019 7:55pm
"the short years
suddenly have long days,
stretching aimlessly
from sunrise to sunset;"
The imagery in this poem is profoundly beautiful to me. I cant wait to read more!
suddenly have long days,
stretching aimlessly
from sunrise to sunset;"
The imagery in this poem is profoundly beautiful to me. I cant wait to read more!
1st Nov 2019 2:34am
Dear L,
“but no one is poorer
than the self-made train wreck
staring back at me
from the bathroom mirror” why does this scream ‘sequences have consequences’?
Hearing this piece has me upended when I recollect all the stupid decisions I’ve made and the messes I’ve had to get out from. The most annoying part is that I chose the problems. Deep down my gut knew they were problems but I did it anyway. Ugh! But we do...pick it all up...again. It’s a beautiful write in its form, content and presentation!! H🌷
PS I really appreciated reading this as it helps me feel not so alone in having rough days where I don’t like what’s reflected in the mirror.
“but no one is poorer
than the self-made train wreck
staring back at me
from the bathroom mirror” why does this scream ‘sequences have consequences’?
Hearing this piece has me upended when I recollect all the stupid decisions I’ve made and the messes I’ve had to get out from. The most annoying part is that I chose the problems. Deep down my gut knew they were problems but I did it anyway. Ugh! But we do...pick it all up...again. It’s a beautiful write in its form, content and presentation!! H🌷
PS I really appreciated reading this as it helps me feel not so alone in having rough days where I don’t like what’s reflected in the mirror.
