"mildewy" poems
a young rainforest has yet to know of the world
the harsh reality of mistrust, humiliation, and disappointment
but maybe thats the charm of it all
trees strung about in a wild fun mess of branches
smells of flowers and mildewy ferns on the floors
welcomes me to close my eyes and be comfortable
every little detail has its own story to tell
every little creature a character of its own
in between the plants it whispers to me
songs and tales of the forest's past, present, and future
the surface of it so bright and colorful
and the bottom so dark and wonderfully cool
for each drop of rain that falls feels warm against the skin
embracing me as one of its own
not knowing of what I have seen and felt before.
But that does not matter,
for the rainforest is handsome, compelling, and full of surprises,
it takes when it can and gives even more-
optimism that everything is alright,
that when I am in such a beautiful place,
there is no reason to worry-
in truly heartbreaking silence,
I think to myself-
I hope I never have to leave.
Jan 11, 2013
Jan 11, 2013 at 2:54 AM UTC
Material objects tempt you
To leave your mildewy rags in the rearview
I know who can help you, he'll be here soon
Meaning he's arriving you just gotta sign this
Contractually obligating your silence
It's not science
Even a blind ***** would find this
Excitin'
See he's taken an interest in ya thighs
and how ya roll ya eyes like you know it all
But trust me when the dough's involved no ya don't
Your just tossing out them bills
Throwing em out like it gives you a thrill
Gives me chills, when the heats shut off
Coughing and coughing, I'm getting sick
Waiting on that **** lickity split
Pass it around, I'm losing it
This ******** piling higher, I'm getting higher
Jumping out the window like that **** on fire
Waiting on a refund for all the time spent
No dimes or dollars even make a dent
Remorseful, with a side of content
Wait up ***** aint they raisin your rent
You need a sugar daddy not a diabetic
Let him take away your woes with a couple franklins
Getcha takin off clothes at his banks expense
Sayin that you bad, need a spankin then
And since you want attention this is what you get
Hard **** and love are two different things
but watch me blur the lines like the drink you sip
I've never been good with relationships
And I lie tryna hide I'm fake as ****
But come to the bedroom
Got money and head room just so we dont drown when the blankets wet
Afterwards you smoke get your makeup fixed
Ask about bank while I take a ****
Throw you twenty to make complaining quit
Do i smell like money, honey?
Take a whiff
I smell something, it aint no money
You wanna play?
Imma need more than some stacks
and some grass to want yo ***
This aint no game of tic tac toe
Three in a row aint gonna beat my woes
You're reaping what you sow
Can't just throw out them bills no mo
It's rich, but you're not
You thought you had what you bought
But I walked, watch your wallet
Cause it can't cash your ********
This aint a relationship
Save it, I aint falling for ****
You aint having it your way
But I'm lovin it
Jul 5, 2015
Jul 5, 2015 at 7:35 PM UTC
Imagine your mind
as a corkscrew
shiny and smooth and silver
and sharp at one end
to open multitudes
to unlock bottles of sweet red wine
and pour it out
for all to taste
to drink wonders deeply
and inhale aromas
but instead you
spiral
until the cork crumbles
around you and
mildewy mulch
falls into the bottle
spoils the wine
with bitter silt.
It tastes like ash now.
Sludge.
Ruined.
Spilled
on the ground.
Corkscrew mind,
how far you fell
how much you dismembered
how wasted your
sharp, yet silken self.
Nov 14, 2013
Nov 14, 2013 at 3:05 PM UTC
Guys like us don't get breaks
with our unshaven faces and manky hair and eyeliner.
Our work-torn jeans colorful tattoos and pierced lips a warning,
Aposematism in human form.
Guys like us don't get breaks
We claw and drag our way not to the top,
but to the surface.
Ain't got no daddy's money.
Ain't got no daddy, or wish we didn't
cause he comes home
talking 'bout how he didn't raise no ******
(He didn't raise nobody).
Guys like us don't get breaks.
Nothing but mildewy rooms
McDonalds for dinner washed
down with cheap *****
Another Thank you for applying but...
Rent due the 24th.
alone at night again.
Guys like us don't get breaks.
Apr 20, 2022
Apr 20, 2022 at 2:41 PM UTC
This was the last
ragged dishwater gasp
before the panic
overwhelmed
Before the bloated
swell of a sagging heart
stooped down
to ache
its gutters overflowing
choked with drowned
rats and mildewy leaves
and when at last those
flaccid lungs failed
The sun shined through
inscrutable walls of cloud
but its aura could not
woo the mud
Aug 25, 2015
Aug 25, 2015 at 7:23 PM UTC
You poke your horrible head out
every once in a while.
I can taste you on my tongue, rolling over my teeth disgusting
and necrotic.
You’re rotten.
You crawl over me, a sick visceral
feeling that settles on my guts, heaving
me down to the floor.
Weak and heaving.
And so I
Hurt myself.
I’ll administer enough trust so
it’s sure enough to bruise.
hands over purpled skin
revelling on the sensation.
And so,
I’m marred.
It feels like a thousand
prickly needles piercing me, just as you pierce my mind
and every rational thought.
I’m not sure you exist. I’m not sure
you’re real;
I’m not sure I’m real,
either.
You impale the basis of my being
with such effortless strength, toppling
pillars without a second look or regard.
You make me want to ******* rip my eyelids clean off,
I want the tainted ichor, once and for all
to obscure my vision.
And never clear.
The gore corrupting my eyes
So deeply they
turn mildewy.
decay away with the rest of me.
I don’t want to see you.
I don’t want to believe you exist.
I will deny you.
Deny you.
Deny you.
And deny you, once more.
Apr 25, 2019
Apr 25, 2019 at 3:39 AM UTC
"Come clean before coming undone" - said the mirror, then melted in the room.
It flowed down from the wall, billowed the room,
and moved across the hallway.
Broken skin like a mildewy smell, disgraced by this voiced-out message,
the iron hill became too twisted and our moments in time,
like debris in the pure water on their way to float to nowhere.
Jun 28, 2017
Jun 28, 2017 at 2:57 PM UTC
6 bedrooms, 6 bathrooms
Ants, in all of them
New sofa, new perfume
Still, I see the holes in the walls
Tall ceilings, silver spoon
Mildewy, a faucet that only runs warm
A carton of milk in the fridge,
Spilt over,
drip drip dripping into a sour puddle
it soaks through the floorboards
pungent, cutting through the air
I hear it as you hold the door open
Come again
But please,
Leave soon
Apr 21, 2024
Apr 21, 2024 at 3:24 PM UTC