deepundergroundpoetry.com

Vomit

Words are such disgusting little things
I hate how I vomit them
How painful it is to retch them onto the page
Pages upon pages of useless words
How they clump and chunk themselves together so randomly
I wish my words were water drops
Could drip down the page
To find each other, swallow, become one
Instead, these nasty words
Sit like sick
Viscous and chunked in the bowl of my skull

I can feel them even now
Little whiskers brushing against the bones of my forehead
Bouncing around the bony plates and sutures
Giggling and screaming and crying and pounding on the walls
Such foolish words, that bounce and spin and play
They don’t know the trouble they cause me

I debate flushing them down
How easy is it to pull a flush or hold a key
Watch them fizzle out like so many before
But what then, when my brain, sensing the newfound quiet,
Starts to turn, to grumble, to demand more words
For company, for play
Create more ideas, more silly dreams
More hopes, more gambles to take
On stupid words in stupid chunks
Fueled by childish ideas and memories and pains

Hope makes words cocky
Dreams and desires mold the ideas
They make you sick, you know,
The ideas are what stick those chunks together, forcing them out of your throat
You see them, there, in the bowl
The memory of an idea once had, eaten and vomited back up
Mine or someone else's, no one can tell after the acid eats them away
It would be better if they weren’t mine
The sick swirling in the bowl would be less painful to look at if it wasn't mine

Such guilty things, ideas
Filled and coated in hope
Of a stroke of genius
A hint of flare
Passion and intricacy hidden in the sludge
But we all know there is no such thing
So after I retch them out onto this page,
This poor, once pure, white page,
I’ll look at my sloppy words
Find disappointment in those poorly formed blobs
And I’ll flush them away again
Waiting for a little bit of hope to get my stomach turning again
A forever cycle, a discouraging life spent sitting on the bathroom floor
Sighing, waiting, retching, flushing
Again and again and
Again.
Written by sommerthe1st
Published
Author's Note
Welcome to my word vomit at 1am because I'm frustrated and struggle to work on poems after I finish writing them
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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