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Eli Jun 18
I'm glowing with insecurities and inpurities.
My depression slows the time of my processings and duties as a clean window.
I have smudges and dirt spots in the miles!
I clean and I clean, but the ***** returns.
I can't erase them,
I'm covered in worms!
King of dirt and infamous germs.
I want to slide out,
I squirm and I squirm.
My terms in return are to accept and watch myself burn.
I am drenched in sin
Imperfect Sonnet
by Michael R. Burch

A word before the light is doused: the night
is something wriggling through an unclean mind,
as rats creep through a tenement. And loss
is written cheaply with the moon’s cracked gloss
like lipstick through the infinite, to show
love’s pale yet sordid imprint on us. Go.

We have not learned love yet, except to cleave.
I saw the moon rise once ... but to believe ...
was of another century ... and now ...
I have the urge to love, but not the strength.

Despair, once stretched out to its utmost length,
lies couched in squalor, watching as the screen
reveals “love’s” damaged images: its dreams ...
and ******* limply, screams and screams.

Originally published by Sonnet Scroll

Keywords/Tags: tenement, rats, unclean, cheap, sordid, despair, squalor, TV, screen, sonnet, limp, limply, screams
B Sonia K Dec 2018
Careless with their lives
They slog in infested slimy waters
In rubber shoes covered in holes
Merging bodies with all the inhabitants of the world beneath their feet
They trudge on

They’re deceptive
Picking up dirts to throw it back in
In those times they’re not seen
Or so they believe

They’ve reduced themselves
To the dirt they feed themselves
And they care not
Their pores clogged with infested slimy waters

Exhibiting animalistic behaviors
They’ve now become barbarians
“Buy us water”,
They cry together.
He who is living a deceptive life
Trudging around in the slimy waters
A place no one has sent them

They feed themselves with those slimy hands?
It’s no wonder their mate died
I stamp my feet in anger!
Do they not see the danger?

I do not feel pity for them
Their state of being
Though perplexing it seems
They chose this.
Their families I weep for
Bodies coated with infested slimy waters
They go home.
Addison Aug 2018
I no longer have a handle
I was fine for four
And now? No more

Wallowing and digging
And now I'm lying in the pool
Considering the hang overs
Bed stained with my past

Man I could go for some nuggets

My pillow's on the floor
The handcuffs lie beside
The fan spins above me
And my pillow lies beside

Bonded in my own constraints
With the fibres calling louder
The lock and key are missing and now?
They don't fit each other anymore

How unclear the clarity of everclear
So clean, connivingly kind
She draws me in, and then,
The blackout ushers me out
Jules M Apr 2018
With the violent jerking,
And battering of my heart,
And my self-image,
I have deteriorated.
I don't want to look at myself for a second longer than it takes
To put on my face in the morning,
Because if I do,
I will begin to poke and **** at my own flesh,
Feeling as if I am going to upchuck every calorie I have consumed
In the 15 years, and 120 days of my life.
If I look at myself long enough,
I am repulsed,
And my day from that point on will be violently,
Disruptively disordered.
Everything I am forced to consume,
Because of the need to hide my disastrous disorder,
Will become disgusting, half-digested
And rottingly,
I will feel pure,
And vile,
All at the same time.
emme m Jul 2017
wash your hands
‘cause you’ve been unclean
doing things
that shouldn’t have been seen

clear your mind
‘cause you’ve been unkind
now you can’t lie
it’ll keep you up at night
Zero Nine Apr 2017
Miriam Marcus struggles up out of bed. She's caught up in blankets and clothing, stuck with a foot in the sheets. Coffee smell. Pungent, slightly sweet, it pulls her by her shoulders, with its body to the door. Then, sharp and deep, scents of a trashcan floating chicken in its own juice punch her in the nose. In the hall, lights flicker. In front, on the couches, bodies pile up, pile over the room. Get caffeine. Dodge the food spoiling happy on tables, counters, and do what you do as you do. Every day.

What's wrong?
Short. Succinct. Acute.
I never even wanted
this picture.
(You did!)
First smell is a fragrance
soft to my nose.
(Sour cream.)
Will I be number 6 in
this two bedroom
forever? Will I
lose my job?
What's wrong?
Short. Succinct. Acute.
I never even wanted
this picture.
(You did!)

You wanted this medication,
baby. You can't tell me different,
though you could try. *****,
why you gonna waste my time?
I'm waiting for you, waiting
for you to catch up. While you
play twenties in your thirties
I urge your image using only
raw throated screams, always
unseen behind your head in
floating, incorporeal code!
And it kills that I can't know
(Pour coffee.)
if she'll catch up!
(Ignore it.)
I'll chew her heart into chunks,
(Work day.)
just let me!
I'll eviscerate her, devour her
and **** her out
into a self made five mile hole
in the lonely woods!
Just let me.
Regan Morse Feb 2017
When I reach h o m e
I will shower
To wash away my s i n s
I will wash away the g r i m
I will wash away my t r i g g e r s
My temporary s a v a g e n e s s

As I walk out and wrap myself in a towel
A softsoftsoft luxury I haven't had in so long
I will b r e a t h e

In . Out

Inhale . Exhale

My shoulders will become l i g h t e r
My walk s u r e r
My hands c l e a n e r

*I will become civilized again.
leo Nov 2016
crooks of elbows
backs of knees
where the thighs touch
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