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deepundergroundpoetry.com
A Bedside AID
To wait, and sleep, no
more for what may or
may not come.
but I can't cum.
To hate, and weep, when
every thought rips and
tears the grey
matter, no matter
about each meta
physical -
physically attractive,
painfully repulsive - no.
not you, no.
it's me,
meaning the shit that
hit the fan would have
flowed through my
veins and wood.
don't touch me.
more for what may or
may not come.
but I can't cum.
To hate, and weep, when
every thought rips and
tears the grey
matter, no matter
about each meta
physical -
physically attractive,
painfully repulsive - no.
not you, no.
it's me,
meaning the shit that
hit the fan would have
flowed through my
veins and wood.
don't touch me.
Published 4th Nov 2012
| Edited 3rd Jun 2014
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
5th Nov 2012 1:24am
Proud to have been sitting next to you when you wrote this :) Great poem, man. You're really getting down what we in the medical profession commonly refer to as a SICK FLOW.
17th Apr 2014 4:44am
