"disorientated" poems - Hello Poetry

where am i? how am I to write when I am no different from those gaseous ephemeral words who lie prostrate upon the pages of my dictionary carved plainly into those battlefields strewn across the wartorn country my heart the despotic dictator whose primal drumming carries no tune and no rhythm and throws of explosions grenades that black out the world for a brief moment until it careens back and slams into me disorientated i should have been born twice for how could i have both my body and that intangible inexplicable something inside it stirs at the molten core of me that chasm that forged those graven images that first gave way to a pictographic language and offered me a voice to explain that immutable all powerful urge lust to throw myself on that red button and detonate burst into a million pieces and finally relieve that nauseating pressure of adipose smushed between holy bone and saintly skin interloping in that space and separating two lovers barriers create madness walls box me in and yet i grow an expanding balloon girl macy’s day parade and candy littered streets and razor sharp edges to steel walls pressing harder against me than my supple skin could ever possibly press back i can’t breathe there is no room for my lungs to expand and feel the fresh sun filled meadow of crystal air delivering oxygen to starved alveoli and i can’t find your chest to guide me in impossible respiration i’m suffocating in my own skin from no outside force but my body itself turns inward and shouts its dominance at my cowering self sniveling in the corner of my dusty half used heart where no blade could possible land a blow deep enough to silence the torment and particular personal poison a torture to course through every part of me activating every single neuron and making me hyperaware of my shame and noxious venomous corpulence a reality i never wanted you to see but is written plainly in fiery script across my forehead and in every fold of fat.

0

Jun 21, 2015

Jun 21, 2015 at 10:22 PM UTC

km-ramsey

body dysmorphia

where am i? how am I to write when I am no different from those gaseous ephemeral words who lie prostrate upon the pages of my dictionary carved plainly into those battlefields strewn across the wartorn country my heart the despotic dictator whose primal drumming carries no tune and no rhythm and throws of explosions grenades that black out the world for a brief moment until it careens back and slams into me disorientated i should have been born twice for how could i have both my body and that intangible inexplicable something inside it stirs at the molten core of me that chasm that forged those graven images that first gave way to a pictographic language and offered me a voice to explain that immutable all powerful urge lust to throw myself on that red button and detonate burst into a million pieces and finally relieve that nauseating pressure of adipose smushed between holy bone and saintly skin interloping in that space and separating two lovers barriers create madness walls box me in and yet i grow an expanding balloon girl macy’s day parade and candy littered streets and razor sharp edges to steel walls pressing harder against me than my supple skin could ever possibly press back i can’t breathe there is no room for my lungs to expand and feel the fresh sun filled meadow of crystal air delivering oxygen to starved alveoli and i can’t find your chest to guide me in impossible respiration i’m suffocating in my own skin from no outside force but my body itself turns inward and shouts its dominance at my cowering self sniveling in the corner of my dusty half used heart where no blade could possible land a blow deep enough to silence the torment and particular personal poison a torture to course through every part of me activating every single neuron and making me hyperaware of my shame and noxious venomous corpulence a reality i never wanted you to see but is written plainly in fiery script across my forehead and in every fold of fat.