Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
It's genetic addiction they say. It's a gene that you pass down like a too big shirt. And it is too big. the shirt and the addiction they both swallow you up your mom suggests you save one for bedtime you decide it works for both. And it does work for both. the shirt is comfy the dark is a good cover you wear the one while you do the other you feel at peace. And it is peaceful. the hum on the fridge is the background noise your headphones broke today frogs croak and crickets chirp outside you feel in control. And you do have it under control. you don't worry that you need more each time that you think about it while the sun is up that you try doing it in the morning that the shirt is getting bigger And it is getting bigger. both of them you have them on every night you can barely find your way out of one let alone the other. And you can't find the way out of one. the one you won't say you will think it all day you won't say it you won't say anything And you never say anything. What could you say? When would be a good time? Could they understand? Who would you tell? And you tell no one. it eats at you you can see the bites it has taken out of you the holes in you and your shirt the shirt you think they'll bury you in And they do bury you in it. you don't know that because you're gone now you buried yourself in the addiction and they bury you in the shirt.
0
Jan 19
Jan 19, 2026 at 3:05 PM UTC
Hand Me Downs
It's genetic addiction they say. It's a gene that you pass down like a too big shirt. And it is too big. the shirt and the addiction they both swallow you up your mom suggests you save one for bedtime you decide it works for both. And it does work for both. the shirt is comfy the dark is a good cover you wear the one while you do the other you feel at peace. And it is peaceful. the hum on the fridge is the background noise your headphones broke today frogs croak and crickets chirp outside you feel in control. And you do have it under control. you don't worry that you need more each time that you think about it while the sun is up that you try doing it in the morning that the shirt is getting bigger And it is getting bigger. both of them you have them on every night you can barely find your way out of one let alone the other. And you can't find the way out of one. the one you won't say you will think it all day you won't say it you won't say anything And you never say anything. What could you say? When would be a good time? Could they understand? Who would you tell? And you tell no one. it eats at you you can see the bites it has taken out of you the holes in you and your shirt the shirt you think they'll bury you in And they do bury you in it. you don't know that because you're gone now you buried yourself in the addiction and they bury you in the shirt.
Written by
Jan 19
Jan 19, 2026 at 3:05 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem