deepundergroundpoetry.com
Have you made your bed up yet?
Like a breath on an early winters morning.
I stayed.
Then midday I sailed far away.
Mourning and yearning.
Speaking for a moment,rounding the curves.
When I get stressed,my words crumble.
As if trodden dirt.
Light years ahead anyway.
My sense makes nonsense out of meaning.
Holding onto believing,
that I actually stayed and pulled ears from head.
Like a bumblebee I search for golden words and so forth.
This reeks of symbolism,my ego said.
Achingly clear,like a cold driven river.
The fragility of childhood aside of playing.
Infinite horror breeds terror in adulthood.
And yet I stayed.
©SukiSushicrown.18/8/2023
I stayed.
Then midday I sailed far away.
Mourning and yearning.
Speaking for a moment,rounding the curves.
When I get stressed,my words crumble.
As if trodden dirt.
Light years ahead anyway.
My sense makes nonsense out of meaning.
Holding onto believing,
that I actually stayed and pulled ears from head.
Like a bumblebee I search for golden words and so forth.
This reeks of symbolism,my ego said.
Achingly clear,like a cold driven river.
The fragility of childhood aside of playing.
Infinite horror breeds terror in adulthood.
And yet I stayed.
©SukiSushicrown.18/8/2023
Published 18th Aug 2023
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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