May 2012
Dropped all of those pieces of paper full of life and crumpled them simply so hastily, clasped in to my lifeless, icy hands.
The noise screeching and screaming out to be saved, to be helped but no it’s already gone
like the rotten fruit that was only half devoured a week before, yet dying a more long and profound death.
All oxygen ****** out its soulless core with nobody to witness but it’s dying self.
It lays alone so alone in the dark, darkness created by a universe or human race that does not care for the apple, for the pineapple, for the grape now gone.
Nobody cares.
Vorocious, piggish and gluttonous life. I hate thee.
I hate thee I hate thee I hate thee, just like me.
The noise screeching and screaming out to be saved, to be helped but no it’s already gone
like the rotten fruit that was only half devoured a week before, yet dying a more long and profound death.
All oxygen ****** out its soulless core with nobody to witness but it’s dying self.
It lays alone so alone in the dark, darkness created by a universe or human race that does not care for the apple, for the pineapple, for the grape now gone.
Nobody cares.
Vorocious, piggish and gluttonous life. I hate thee.
I hate thee I hate thee I hate thee, just like me.
The poem was inspired by a box of dead fruit lying in my bedroom. It had been there for weeks and it was rotten ~ it made me question life and it's harsh realities.
