deepundergroundpoetry.com

The Box

Emptiness is time unaccounted for and
depression just thoughts out of place.
Drugs are a welcome distraction,
with time to kill
sleeping saves
staring

Down.

Restlessness loses its edge
when motivation hangs stale
in the air with the bad taste of self
endorsed solitude.

Sex feels like a post binge lull,
heady and numb.
People are ugly,
bodies disproportioned
curious and sick.

Happiness is traded on
belief and confidence.
Bodies are traded on pretty
money and status.
I trade misery
for power and fear
and adrenalin.

Only to find
that the product of time honoured nothing
who floats up high enough
to touch the sun

Burns.
Written by Anon
Published | Edited 3rd Nov 2017
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 0 reading list entries 0
comments 6 reads 1459
Commenting Preference: 
The author has chosen not to accept new comments at this time.

Latest Forum Discussions
SPEAKEASY
Today 3:20pm by Mstrmnd1923
SPEAKEASY
Today 1:45pm by Ahavati
SPEAKEASY
Today 1:39pm by nightbirdblue
COMPETITIONS
Today 1:05pm by Grace