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Sick Days of the Past

Gone are countless moments
Wasted years spent feeding on toxic fumes
No longer able to recognize myself
The mirror screams
And soon I will forget it all again
My room is far to frightening 
Even my bed has goosebumps
I can't even go out anymore!!
I want to collapse into an old rocking chair 
To forget this sick that obsesses's me
I'm exhausted
Done with being strung out
Yet, still strung out
Spontaneously combusting
Rearranging the stars
Birthing a whole new sky
While I stare at a clock mocking me
The insignia of suicide
Gorged on the fruit that hangs from the branches
Of a long dead tree sure to eat the body and melt the brain
To much samo samo 
Bull dreary neighborhood disease
Walking in broken shoes 
Eyes glazed over with a frost manufactured from
Tiny tin bags 
No where to run  
Left reminded of a permanent picture realm of sunshine
Now left to mold in bags of trash 
Stacked to the ceiling 
Of a room where I've come to finally die

Copyright © | Year Posted 2018




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Date: 9/9/2018 8:51:00 PM
Oh my, a very dark one indeed, Ryan. But poetry does not have to be all pretty. You have the ability to really caputure the emotion and give it to us with your imagery.
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Date: 9/2/2018 10:50:00 AM
Dark...and Deep...Thanks for posting.
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Date: 8/6/2018 8:46:00 AM
This is worth reading again. I like poetry that perchlorates from a deep place.
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Date: 7/28/2018 5:11:00 AM
The dire bleakness of this makes it beautiful.
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Date: 7/27/2018 9:25:00 AM
Ryan.. welcome to our poetic bowl of soup. Your skills can't be hidden in the dark shadows of this penetrating write!
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Date: 7/26/2018 3:47:00 PM
A dark write but effectively expressed. Welcome to the soup. I hope you will find this place uplifting.
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