deepundergroundpoetry.com

I try to free myself

I open my eyes and bed rust urges to do.
Frantic friend sighs bitter moan.
Repulsive languid shadow crushes life.
Black death screams an ugly symphony of sad dreams -
and I know that I must busy myself with this in order to escape this faceless monster.
So I do. I write this poem and
The beat beat beat becomes slow.
I forget about the screams inside.
The tight tight tight becomes loose.
The meaningless becomes silly.
The conflict of my being fades into some dimension where I'm free.
And, it seems like I have to free myself all the time to stop this anti-life building up its putrid essence in my soul.
I write this. I free myself a little.
Here is some of my freedom.
Written by shoelacepixie (Tamlyn Bateman)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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