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deepundergroundpoetry.com
Making it work.
I'd write you a line
I'd turn you a phrase
if there was a clean and
clear space in my head
but the walls are
caving
Everyone wants a bite
and I'm not sure where
this 'Pink lady' is meant to lay her man-fearing mind.
So stir it
let them in
let them fuck you in the cunt
in the mouth
in the arse
let them drain you
let yourself
love them
while they take their dick somewhere else
and shove it
hide the used condom in a bottle
in the bin you lay beside
still laying on the sheets he fucked her in
I can picture her little face
her brown eyes
her hair splayed out on the pillows
I can picture him kissing her
him taking her home
him sucking nipples
younger than mine
I can imagine this, can't breathe and I hate myself
and I hate her and I hate him
and I -
I'd be alone right now
if it wasn't for love
I'd be better off
I'd be a shell
I'd be guarded
I would be the fire
and the moon
and the stars and the hate that shines from my eyes and the loss that shines in his and the hopeless mess that cries on the floor and smokes until her head is mush and scattered pieces of glass.
I'd turn you a phrase
if there was a clean and
clear space in my head
but the walls are
caving
Everyone wants a bite
and I'm not sure where
this 'Pink lady' is meant to lay her man-fearing mind.
So stir it
let them in
let them fuck you in the cunt
in the mouth
in the arse
let them drain you
let yourself
love them
while they take their dick somewhere else
and shove it
hide the used condom in a bottle
in the bin you lay beside
still laying on the sheets he fucked her in
I can picture her little face
her brown eyes
her hair splayed out on the pillows
I can picture him kissing her
him taking her home
him sucking nipples
younger than mine
I can imagine this, can't breathe and I hate myself
and I hate her and I hate him
and I -
I'd be alone right now
if it wasn't for love
I'd be better off
I'd be a shell
I'd be guarded
I would be the fire
and the moon
and the stars and the hate that shines from my eyes and the loss that shines in his and the hopeless mess that cries on the floor and smokes until her head is mush and scattered pieces of glass.
Published 17th Apr 2012
| Edited 22nd Apr 2012
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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Anonymous
18th Apr 2012 5:49pm
I don't think you need the last two lines. They're kind of anticlimactic, but only because what proceeds it is so innovative and startling. I'd recommend making the poem punchier by removing a lot of the commas and writing in sharp sentences. Other than that you have a delightfully vulgar and emotive poem here, filled with savage, intimate violence which should stir even the coldest reader from his apathy. Thanks for the read.
22nd Apr 2012 11:16am
Thank you, Jack. Sorry it took so long! The edits helped, I wasn't using a clear head. Lovely comment.
