deepundergroundpoetry.com
A Tiny Person in the Rain
A means to an end
An end to it all I mean
Put it off and the hole widens
Think it through, there must be something I missed? A silver lining?
I’m the queen of waiting for the miracle
Be it a cloud passing by or a bunch of purple posies next to my shoe when I tied it so long ago
The silver lining to the worst day of my life that happens to be everyday if my life
The human condition
I’m waiting here, can I have some room?
I really wanna feel and touch what is out there
What I find is old scars, some toothpick and my tomb
Sorry is it to soon?
Too soon for the farewell dirge, too soon for your words
Words that never meant nothing to me anyhow
You were a cold compress
Life and it’s “miracles” and “wait it’ll get betters” are nothing but a cool compress to the fever on my forehead
The fever, a congenital condition
The human congenital condition
I was born to be sick and I was made to want to rot
I want to die, there’s no other way around it
What can I say
Put it off again
The plot thickens
It thickens with time wasters and wasting time
But mom I think I’m ready
I think I’m really ready
A little metaphorical scroll unfurls itself between my eyebrows
In a tiny but ornate golden scrawl
The words to the surrealists piece “is suicide the answer?” appears
In my heart I know the words
Words I’ve been reciting all my life echoed by none other than Crevel in that same text
“yes”
An end to it all I mean
Put it off and the hole widens
Think it through, there must be something I missed? A silver lining?
I’m the queen of waiting for the miracle
Be it a cloud passing by or a bunch of purple posies next to my shoe when I tied it so long ago
The silver lining to the worst day of my life that happens to be everyday if my life
The human condition
I’m waiting here, can I have some room?
I really wanna feel and touch what is out there
What I find is old scars, some toothpick and my tomb
Sorry is it to soon?
Too soon for the farewell dirge, too soon for your words
Words that never meant nothing to me anyhow
You were a cold compress
Life and it’s “miracles” and “wait it’ll get betters” are nothing but a cool compress to the fever on my forehead
The fever, a congenital condition
The human congenital condition
I was born to be sick and I was made to want to rot
I want to die, there’s no other way around it
What can I say
Put it off again
The plot thickens
It thickens with time wasters and wasting time
But mom I think I’m ready
I think I’m really ready
A little metaphorical scroll unfurls itself between my eyebrows
In a tiny but ornate golden scrawl
The words to the surrealists piece “is suicide the answer?” appears
In my heart I know the words
Words I’ve been reciting all my life echoed by none other than Crevel in that same text
“yes”
Published 21st Oct 2022
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comments 5
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Anonymous
- Edited 29th May 2023 7:45am
21st Oct 2022 4:56pm
<< post removed >>
22nd Oct 2022 5:44pm
Suicide is for wimps. You don't write like a wimp. So guess what, suicide isn't for you.
So write your ass off, and live.
You do write well. I mean that. Don't let me down. I get pissy with quitters.
Use your voice through your writings. It's a healing that you will feel as time continues.
One perfect, incredible day is worth a thousand bad ones. And a million times better than The Nothing. You will have that day. You'll see.
And we will get to read about it, when you write it.
So write your ass off, and live.
You do write well. I mean that. Don't let me down. I get pissy with quitters.
Use your voice through your writings. It's a healing that you will feel as time continues.
One perfect, incredible day is worth a thousand bad ones. And a million times better than The Nothing. You will have that day. You'll see.
And we will get to read about it, when you write it.
23rd Oct 2022 00:29am
Thank you. I’m in tears. I’m no quitter you’re absolutely right. I’m writing my truest feelings here but writing them down and reading it is very therapeutic for me. Thank you again for taking the time to read this. It means more than you know.
23rd Oct 2022 2:39pm
Actually I do know what it means.
I'm a bunch of parts from various train wrecks of life. And to be here, this far, I'm thankful.
So you get there too.
Writing is incredible therapy. We get to be gods when we write. Whether big ones or little ones, we are creationists. We can write ourselves into a better mental picture. It works.
I'm a bunch of parts from various train wrecks of life. And to be here, this far, I'm thankful.
So you get there too.
Writing is incredible therapy. We get to be gods when we write. Whether big ones or little ones, we are creationists. We can write ourselves into a better mental picture. It works.
25th Oct 2022 00:34am
I’m thankful you’re here this far in your journey too. I want to get there one day.
