deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Reason Why
It's only by the purest chance
that I survived, I sometimes think.
How else to tell the reason why
what made my mother ash,
(my step-mother literally),
has just about failed with me?
I've clung to life, I see,
at last. When it seemed like
I was just lazy, ungrateful,
and filthy of the deepest and
most private parts, I clung.
The books were my liferaft.
My rubber ring. The buoy
that saved the drowning boy.
that I survived, I sometimes think.
How else to tell the reason why
what made my mother ash,
(my step-mother literally),
has just about failed with me?
I've clung to life, I see,
at last. When it seemed like
I was just lazy, ungrateful,
and filthy of the deepest and
most private parts, I clung.
The books were my liferaft.
My rubber ring. The buoy
that saved the drowning boy.
Published 9th Jul 2022
Author's Note
I've placed this in "inspirational" because it feels inspirational. But please feel free to mark it as "adult content" if you think that it is.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 2
reading list entries 0
comments 3
reads 380
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
Anonymous
- Edited 9th Jul 2022 2:37pm
9th Jul 2022 2:33pm
When ever I see a picture like this I want closeups . Im in and out of strangers' houses measuring things everyday for my job, and my secret pleasure is l, I love perusing another's bookshelf, if just to scan the titles. Sometimes the best moment occurs when recognition is met, like, exclamation point, exclamation point, exclamation point, I've read and cherish these same books myself!
9th Jul 2022 3:05pm
That's so lovely, thank you for sharing. I do something sort of similar myself, whenever I happen across alien bookshelves. x
Anonymous
9th Jul 2022 4:43pm
For my own part, i think i'll inhabit Alan Moore's Neapolis today
