Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
lauren-sagePoems
And I never told you how I feel Poisoned, like a tired old thing which has Died and been magicked back to life in the same Lumpy, raggedy body Sawdust at the seams, eyes dull from rubbing A velveteen rabbit worn to skin, fit for the fire to Wash away the contagion and stink of sickness I convince myself this is not the case I Convince people around me this is not the case but after the Parties are done and the work is gone and the exams are finished I feel That weariness in my bones that this is who I am A dead thing that pretends to be alive You called me silvertongue once, ‘You could sell beans to a bean farmer,’ Let me do you one better, bud, I’ve been selling beans to myself knowing That they will never grow I spit them around me when I feel the grit in my mouth like Malformed pearls, nuptial gifts to myself The ultimate scam, they build and build around me, they balance on each other Higher and higher they pile, pebbles on rocks until they wall me in and I think This time with fear What if they grow? What happens if they grow? Is this what life is? Am I doing it?
0
Dec 9, 2019
Dec 9, 2019 at 12:30 AM UTC
'We have to use a spell to make them balance,'
And I never told you how I feel Poisoned, like a tired old thing which has Died and been magicked back to life in the same Lumpy, raggedy body Sawdust at the seams, eyes dull from rubbing A velveteen rabbit worn to skin, fit for the fire to Wash away the contagion and stink of sickness I convince myself this is not the case I Convince people around me this is not the case but after the Parties are done and the work is gone and the exams are finished I feel That weariness in my bones that this is who I am A dead thing that pretends to be alive You called me silvertongue once, ‘You could sell beans to a bean farmer,’ Let me do you one better, bud, I’ve been selling beans to myself knowing That they will never grow I spit them around me when I feel the grit in my mouth like Malformed pearls, nuptial gifts to myself The ultimate scam, they build and build around me, they balance on each other Higher and higher they pile, pebbles on rocks until they wall me in and I think This time with fear What if they grow? What happens if they grow? Is this what life is? Am I doing it?
Written by
lauren-sage
Dec 9, 2019
Dec 9, 2019 at 12:30 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem