Bottom Poems - Poems about Bottom

Perhaps I have descended so low, already sinking my nails into the bottom of the abyss, While my fangs point towards the distant sky, bathed in moonlight, Perhaps I have lied, hidden things and left them behind on the stars, And perhaps I only told you what you wanted to hear, a story to lose yourself in. But I...

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object be silent not signed about take the present it a meaningful moment at that cornered life you scram behind the bent stand she and he hide out for once and for naught a single ounce you got left to sell comin in a center miss perfect deflecting death shirt coats end polish pranks and bank shot calling from my starched abandon lifetimes no skranton big world owners and rulers standard operator error get blues when?...

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There is a bottom that is past what we thought we knew. The sub-floors are there for false safety and reason, too. When we get to the dirt under all the lies and find the reasons we want to stay alive, we are prepared to give it up and live instead of die. The dirt we find on the floor...

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Naughtiness is the name of my game Writing serious no longer earns me fame Seems I'm stuck in a rut Must write about smut So my BOTTOM line is I can't be to blame ...

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The night grows silent after you have gone I sigh, knowing it was you I could count on Moon glows quietly, pouring out her light While the stars glisten across the dusky night The night reminds me that I’m utterly alone Oh my, how our time together has flown? When will I see you again… in the eternal Where we’ll elude the...

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I am at rock bottom so I ask.. Are you real? Do you hear me? I realize suffering is necessary So we may turn to you.. Are you real? Do you hear me? I am at rock bottom The only place to look is up.. Are you real? Do you hear me? I have waited so long...

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The ruffle of fleece at her neck makes her feel manufactured, not born— brushstrokes of windswept wool, all soft edges and curves the color of old milk. Her lips were no artist's accident, nor the smirk as she lurks in the corner more knowing than any ewe usually dares. Coy smile, a pearled necklace of fur and her hind-end musk— drew the brown...

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Best not to be loved widely but deeply. Not by peers but within oneself. Love so deeply, down to the warmest part of the Earth’s core. Rock Bottom. Pressure so strong, darkness penetrates. Breaks through the chest, sharpest pain. Love so deeply, break through the chains. Climb the stairs from floor to ceiling. Seconds feel like hours. Hours feel like days. But to love so...

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tolfd me.. you support me but I don't suport you An enemt within is someone who makes misery in everything you do. youqualify but aint gonna get it pejorative labeling all to undermined and position I can treat you like this talk to you like that your underminded who you think did that...

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red box in the window, inside a black widow playing this fiddle tune, heartbreak to be consumed. she is not some honey, she is not for money, she’s just kinda hungry, for your body and mind. in the nighttime moonlight, when the orb blinks outloud, this is where you’ll find her_ that lovemaking neon sound....

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The cold fog rises from the meadow like smoke from Poppy's pipe... ... ever upward with the sweet savour of meadow grass. My bare feet, like mortar and pestle, smash out the green scent as I walk through the wet dew, chilled and sprinkled with drops of water. ...

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small animal feral always be bottom of barrel some who are sterile wear weird apparel named Cheryl or Carol named Darrel or Harold named Merrill or Jerald...

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I remember when her butt was small It's been so long I hardly recall It was cute as a mouse Now it's big as a house Guess it's better than no butt at all I suggested she go see a Doc And when she found one just down the block He helped her lose the weight Oh Wow! She looks...

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The tide cannot go on dark on my feet— in winter you move but 'specially move, but from within its grave, your bracing cease, this time of year where a fog I look through, in the sea that passed your own footprints by— in winter you move but 'specially move with a current that to my living cries like a wild channel,...

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you crawled from the bottom of tomorrow withered beneath my feet the smell of forgotten earth arose bountiful cruelty emerged my mind craved awful goodness standing before me a hidden figure moving behind the darkness legs unevenly bent backwards standing there with broken blood stained wings a tear as hard as tar remained on your...

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