Feelings persist,
gnawing at my core,
burrowing
inch by ****** inch
through the fabric of
wet, clammy skin.
Maybe I should remain
alone...
What if I am not
good enough?
Deep breath…
you can do this
is what I am told
by sadism buried inside my
troubled mind.
Don't worry...everyone will
(laugh at you)
think you're wonderful.
One step at a time,
time keeps pace with
wildly jumbled thoughts
of inadequacy.
Convincing myself I can
leave my hole,
sweating to
over-worked imagination,
it is only a bottle
that allows me to sail away
on the little ship
contained within.
This poem is the third one I wrote for the Anxiety / Release collaboration. Yes, the third. And no, there was not a second. The second attempt never got finished, and thus will never get posted.
This particular piece is not my favorite, and definitely not one of the stronger ones I wrote for the collaboration. I think it is fairly obvious why it did not make the cut. Yet I am posting it. Why? Well, I want to give you an idea as to what I went through as I contemplated, ruminated and struggled with as the process went on. This poem is dark, and I remember that I was in a fairly dense fog (mentally, not physically) as I wrote it. But I can't help but feel that there is something missing, something incomplete with this piece. I can't put my finger on it. I did edit this piece a bit long after the actual writing date, and it did make it better than the original.
Once again, I ask that, at the very least, you can appreciate what it takes to write this dark poetry. It is not just random words, it is a thought process that starts as a tiny idea, and with a heavy heart and foggy mind, that idea grows into something....scary.
Feedback is always welcome.