deepundergroundpoetry.com
Groundhog Day.
My unbeating heart makes not one
Single gesture
The sores on my arms are infected and festered
Blood runs cold, stopping in its tracks
What was once full of life, now lacks
Lay still, silent
Though not quiet, no not very quiet
Searing red, strife and violence.
I wake up, in a hospital bed
Only to find that it’s happened again.
What could possibly have gone wrong?
As I wake from the dead,
Entire life infront of me
Hanging by a thread
There’s No light at the end of my tunnel
The mood was dark,my sight muttled
Visions of images to bold for comprehension
Living my life in the bend of my arm
Standing over myself like a star in the sky
wondering what you are
But to high to have understanding
to high to rationalize
it’s defying the forces Which so heavily do press me.
Her excruciatingly painful inner version of what’s best for me,
it’s Controlled contempt,
An act of such audacity, showing my true compasity to be everything that I’m not.
Lashes on my back that bring back my senses
It’s a waste and a tragedy.
Crumbling from the gravity that im a fucking casualty of such fucking goddamn blasphemy
That was drawn by my own hand.
The admission rocked her whole body, fumbling and sobbing, every few seconds checking my pulse, on impulse
Is this death, or am I nodding?
This existence is bleak, under the constant scrutiny of a needle
Poking me and prodding me
Knocking me out sorts.
Bombarding me without one small bit of remorse
Trying so hard to drown out the sounds
Shoving them deeper
deeper down this rabbit hole
That contains the stark contrast
Infinitely dark but blindingly beautiful
there’s no escaping such hopelessness,
it’s constant and residual
Waking up every day to endure the inevitable
Whispers cascading higher almost fucking screaming at me
to stop before it’s too late
But it is and I’m burning
Burning in the fire
Looks like tomorrow never got here
And the present just sits back silent.
though not quiet, no not very quiet.
The yearn stirs
It Intoxicates me into a trance.
Fates pale fingers so seductively trace
The delicate lace that’s covering
A great expanse full of all my sadness and hate
The chance of an out from this fate
to escape this state of which I’m eternally trapped. They call it a saving grace
But that’s coming from someone who’s never had
Poison fill up their entire fucking face.
Man im tired fuckin wait
But I never get a break
Glass shatttered all around me
And then Realizing for the first time
That I’m even fucking alive.
Expectantly, they wait
Having nothing left but this
I allow them a moment
To recollect themselves
Before the convulsions
Take this spared life straight to hell.
while I lay here with sweat beading on my face,
I find myself Longing for more of the shit that fucking made me this way.
Single gesture
The sores on my arms are infected and festered
Blood runs cold, stopping in its tracks
What was once full of life, now lacks
Lay still, silent
Though not quiet, no not very quiet
Searing red, strife and violence.
I wake up, in a hospital bed
Only to find that it’s happened again.
What could possibly have gone wrong?
As I wake from the dead,
Entire life infront of me
Hanging by a thread
There’s No light at the end of my tunnel
The mood was dark,my sight muttled
Visions of images to bold for comprehension
Living my life in the bend of my arm
Standing over myself like a star in the sky
wondering what you are
But to high to have understanding
to high to rationalize
it’s defying the forces Which so heavily do press me.
Her excruciatingly painful inner version of what’s best for me,
it’s Controlled contempt,
An act of such audacity, showing my true compasity to be everything that I’m not.
Lashes on my back that bring back my senses
It’s a waste and a tragedy.
Crumbling from the gravity that im a fucking casualty of such fucking goddamn blasphemy
That was drawn by my own hand.
The admission rocked her whole body, fumbling and sobbing, every few seconds checking my pulse, on impulse
Is this death, or am I nodding?
This existence is bleak, under the constant scrutiny of a needle
Poking me and prodding me
Knocking me out sorts.
Bombarding me without one small bit of remorse
Trying so hard to drown out the sounds
Shoving them deeper
deeper down this rabbit hole
That contains the stark contrast
Infinitely dark but blindingly beautiful
there’s no escaping such hopelessness,
it’s constant and residual
Waking up every day to endure the inevitable
Whispers cascading higher almost fucking screaming at me
to stop before it’s too late
But it is and I’m burning
Burning in the fire
Looks like tomorrow never got here
And the present just sits back silent.
though not quiet, no not very quiet.
The yearn stirs
It Intoxicates me into a trance.
Fates pale fingers so seductively trace
The delicate lace that’s covering
A great expanse full of all my sadness and hate
The chance of an out from this fate
to escape this state of which I’m eternally trapped. They call it a saving grace
But that’s coming from someone who’s never had
Poison fill up their entire fucking face.
Man im tired fuckin wait
But I never get a break
Glass shatttered all around me
And then Realizing for the first time
That I’m even fucking alive.
Expectantly, they wait
Having nothing left but this
I allow them a moment
To recollect themselves
Before the convulsions
Take this spared life straight to hell.
while I lay here with sweat beading on my face,
I find myself Longing for more of the shit that fucking made me this way.
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