deepundergroundpoetry.com

Skin

Always leaning towards
a suicidal tendency,
it’s really killing me,
the paranoia that
everyone wants
to see me six feet deep
is really fucking getting to me.
Why can’t we shed our skin?
The upper epidermis.
Surface level flesh.
The flaky bits
of worrisome shit,
I got to let it go.
Get rid of it.
Nobody knows the mud
better than I did.
I lived in it, I lived in shit.
Swallowing pounds,
or gallons,
or yards
choose the measurement.
Who gives a shit.
I swallowed all of it,
and you’ll never know
how much I’m fucking sick of it.
Written by Dreamboy
Published
Author's Note
One man's pain is not another man's comparison.
Everyone feels.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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