Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2013
Standing, waiting, my face blank, uncaring and staring
at the garish colors of their cheap and ill-fitting clothes.
Cramming in, fingers all greasy, raucously laughing,
jabbering *******, braying useless information, loudly.
Swarming, idly in hot  little dark holes of rooms, making
a suffocating stench from ragged mouth-breathing.  

Obnoxious.
******* disgusting, everyone.
Don't ******* touch me.
This is overwhelming.

"There's too many people in here."
You sidle up to me, saying what we're both thinking, and then we leave.
Both of us glaring at the ******* shuffling slowly,  in the way,
unable to meet our height or eyes, they remain glued
to the tiny screens in their sweaty and hot little hands,
as their annoying children are screaming and running.

You.
You, with your ****-brown eyes.
Silent and stoic, with a hard-edged jaw. Are you ******* me?
Like not making eye contact with me is going to shame me,
stripping me of something that you never even bestowed?
You think I'm obscene?
Mister, look at you.

I am tired, but, I am okay. I am fine.
I don't care what you otherwise say.

Alive and sober, awake and dying.

I am improving, actively evolving.
I am not devalued or retrograding.

*******.
Don't not look at me, as though I were a freak.
Don't sneer and scoff, and judge me, as meat.
*******.

You think you know me better than me?
You think you could even convince me differently?
                am I right, or am I right?

Go ahead, lock your jaw, frown and furrow your brow, you magnanimous hypocrite.
We're both autonomous, and rich, in Ameri-*******-ca, with freedom out the *******.  

You're free to judge me.
I'm free to say *******.

We both bleed red blood.
We both will do as we will,
loving, *******, fighting,
drinking, *******, coping,
hiding, hurting, smelling,
crying, begging, hating,
breathing, needing, eating,
sleeping, living, and dying
under the great majesty of

                                                               ­        A *******
                                                         ­            INDIFFERENT
                                                 ­                       UNIVERSE

where we both need to
stop thinking differently.
glass can
Written by
glass can  San Francisco
(San Francisco)   
782
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems