Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
torchinorfanijPoems
Yes, I Pitter patter On a bitter pattern Of broken memories that I chitter chat about with little matter And according to the middle latter statement I'm a little out of place when I reminisce about that nasty past That mask... THAT mask. The one that covered the area where my face belongs Which matched PERFECTLY with the shoes I would step in **** with Telling myself: "My socks are still clean" Thinking I could use more chemicals than a Sheen to be Pristine But that's just artificial heat from a blanket with no seams.. I try to tear apart this quilt Threaded with empty promises in vain Inside veins that don't pump blood They pump shame I'll never be wrapped in this again.. Covered in unfamiliar skin Wearing a questionable grin When in the hell did I begin this transformation? Self surgery. Murdering false idols! ******** the very fabric of entertainment. (Yes I can be a **** But I rock an S on my chest over the D.. I'm so sick My thoughts are so vile They will leave you ill on your lying lips There is no use in trying to switch The shattered reality you now have as a dying wish
0
Apr 16, 2019
Apr 16, 2019 at 10:01 AM UTC
Self Surgery
Yes, I Pitter patter On a bitter pattern Of broken memories that I chitter chat about with little matter And according to the middle latter statement I'm a little out of place when I reminisce about that nasty past That mask... THAT mask. The one that covered the area where my face belongs Which matched PERFECTLY with the shoes I would step in **** with Telling myself: "My socks are still clean" Thinking I could use more chemicals than a Sheen to be Pristine But that's just artificial heat from a blanket with no seams.. I try to tear apart this quilt Threaded with empty promises in vain Inside veins that don't pump blood They pump shame I'll never be wrapped in this again.. Covered in unfamiliar skin Wearing a questionable grin When in the hell did I begin this transformation? Self surgery. Murdering false idols! ******** the very fabric of entertainment. (Yes I can be a **** But I rock an S on my chest over the D.. I'm so sick My thoughts are so vile They will leave you ill on your lying lips There is no use in trying to switch The shattered reality you now have as a dying wish
***** feet wearing clean shoes
#soul#past#mistakes#regrets#pain#misery#shame
torchinorfanij
Written by
torchinorfanij
30/M
Apr 16, 2019
Apr 16, 2019 at 10:01 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem