Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Fish The Pig Dec 2018
I confront all that you have done
barr my teeth and hitch and scream
I want you to know you have not won
that I did not feel or hear
a word you spat
a hand you slapped
that I am a beast of the new world
glistening motives totally unfurled
marching on
living on

what a fantasy it is
the winning of the battle,

in truth
I am weak,
and burdened,
longing for sleep.
Fish The Pig Dec 2018
skin rubbed raw by cheap sheets

yet another restless sleep

hindered not by freezing hands and feet

but by unknown trials of tomorrow

that may weaken my clutch,

that may finally be too much,

and relished by no more morrows-

lets me slip into the endless sorrow
Fish The Pig Dec 2018
the charming figment of a man stood against the wall with hands in pocket

"feel drained, my love?"

"Lost in the fog, I'm afraid"

her eyes grew and drooped to cartoonish proportions

grammar and spelling amiss

she sighed and hunched

typing typing typing

the ever secretly questioning robot

going about it's robot business

"Want to run away, my love?"

"very much so... away from my mind... very much so"
Fish The Pig Oct 2018
Where,

at the end of a cold night,

should I release these age-old turmoils?

it seems,

only unto these clenched,   ****** teeth.
Fish The Pig Oct 2018
I could write for hours

of a life that doesn't exist,

I can feel it even with open eyes,

cautiously glazing past

the rural          

jagged world

I resist

Allowing it all to feed off me

destroying my life under the guise of coping,

and only furthering the incoherent dread of which I consist
Fish The Pig Oct 2018
My eyes water hard
as I focus on the train floor
that hasn't been cleaned in maybe years

"Don't look upon the outsider" I say to myself
"Don't look upon the tall skinny man with sandy hair and age old eyes. He'll stomp out your freedom with those pointed leather boots- he'll curse your breath with those cracking hands-
that geometrical jaw will whisper all you've ever dreamed of"

I kept my eyes down
He had no scent
yet I could smell the divine.

Was he looking at me,
or gazing past?
If only I had the courage to look,
now I'll never know,

I'll never know.
Fish The Pig Oct 2018
The Rock N' Roll man
hung an arm loose
around the pole of the jerking train,
he swayed about like a rag doll,
a half cocked smile on his face,
pants exposing a sharp, ****** hip,
he didn't care.
He's so Rock N Roll
Next page