Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2015
The feeling is lead.
Stubborn,
It sits in my chest.
I remind myself
Not to dare name it.
I remind myself:
If you name it,
It becomes real.
Suddenly, people will see it.
Label you for it.
It will define you.

I ignore it
When I can.
Suppressing him
As best as possible.
Still, he manages to
Shrink me.
******* me.

He strains my knees.
Curves my back.
Hangs below my eyes.
I plead with him.
Beg him.
Try to compromise.
But this thing is
Deaf,
Dumb,
Simple—
He is oblivious.

He lacks understanding.
Incessantly, he fails
To recognize
My pain;
Perpetual discomfort.
Unaware, he forces me;
Knees ******,
Crawling to my vices.

Frequently
I drown him.
Hold his head low.
Well at the bottom of the
***** reservoir
That accumulates
Each night in my gut—
I drink one
After the next.
My hand never
Leaves the glass;
If I can help it,
The glass never
Leave my lips.
Until finally my world—
Our world
Falls below the, thick, black,
***** soaked veil.


Often
I choke him;
With thick, grey,
Clouds of smoke.
The clouds burn
Deep in my lungs
Lifting the burden
From my chest,
Back, knees.
For a minute
My mind isn’t
So crowded.
For the moment
I feel relief.

Some nights
I numb myself
With casual company.
Women,
Who like I,
Are acquainted with he.
For a moment
We might distract
One another—
In that moment
There’s sometimes bliss
Temporary,
Fleeting,
Transient—


But undoubtedly,
Bliss…
Christopher KD
Written by
Christopher KD  Bronx NY
(Bronx NY)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems