agonising hatred
grief— posture stiffened
blurred disheartenment
the visage of subpar
staring back, hopeless
guttural midriff reverberations;
sighs, tolerating platters
ultimately grasping—
everlastingly out of reach.
fury— condemned to observe
perfection elsewhere, nevermore
my own, imperfection a bitter
aftertaste of juxtaposition.
perpetual torture,
sickening phobia that
I slog a laughing stock, a
blissfully ignorant jester.
envy— offhandedly able
to swagger, bareless upper half
devoid of inner critique
waltzing a cruel shape.
Yet shackled slithers of
short-lived contentment for I,
unchained humiliating realization
that all click and stare mockingly.
anguish— social gatherings,
stuffed faces converse heartily.
nibbling, flavours burst,
overwhelming explosions
from bare toast. bated
belly hoping that it
can cherish too, but
terror. to the surface afresh.
futility— monotonous drones
“it does get better”
void promises, attempting
to blanket stark reality.
a piece of cake for them,
ironically unfortunate.
my stomach doomed to muse
what cake even is.
weakening, my mind asks me
“will it get better?”
as my bodily systems
shut down one by one
it never hears me
utter my response
just the empty grumbles
that never get cared to.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
