deepundergroundpoetry.com
untitled 2
Tip toeing up my spine
A short distance for his hands to travel
I imitate the sounds of sleep,
But I stare at the bleak wall.
Why do adults hate colour?
Hot breathe scolds my neck,
And Tip toes loose composure
Mutating into the heavy feet of monsters
stomping into my skin, there going to steal my body
I close my eyes; this won’t last forever.
A short distance for his hands to travel
I imitate the sounds of sleep,
But I stare at the bleak wall.
Why do adults hate colour?
Hot breathe scolds my neck,
And Tip toes loose composure
Mutating into the heavy feet of monsters
stomping into my skin, there going to steal my body
I close my eyes; this won’t last forever.
Published 26th Jan 2020
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likes 6
reading list entries 3
comments 5
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26th Jan 2020 6:54pm
You have a deep mind filled with so much to write about in unspoken words to describe an action of abuse that you talked about it is something that haunts the depth of the mind and soul...respect
26th Jan 2020 9:23pm
You broach the subject of abuse with a simultaneous viscera and subtlety that is a haunting marriage. My last new write Ataru was about the same. I'm glad you made it to through to now and I really appreciate you sharing from such depths.
26th Jan 2020 11:24pm
This made my chest quiver. It is dark, but shining. The emotion is captured completely. Thank you for the share.
27th Jan 2020 7:24am
Must respect you came out of this in one piece. When you find your best friend it will be magical and filled with love
29th Jan 2020 12:21pm
