"toruture" poems
I’m sitting here
I can feel your hate
and your anger
Lucky for me
In this moment I am not alone
I spot an ant on the wall
It walks in and out of the light
The blue and purple neon lights that come from somewhere
Somewhere in the city where someone
Is making something out of themselves
The ant runs back and forth
In imperfect circles
I focus on it because I have nothing else
I can say that I see myself in the inssignificant bug
Running, from who knows what
Hiding in the darkness , as if that will save it
So easily squashed at someone’s will
I want to shrink
To be as small as the ant
To be hidden
My oxymoron of a thought process is
I will shine; as long as no one can see me
I will speak;as long as no one believes me
I will Live; as long as no one can hear me breathe
And Now my Mind is going Blank
A desperate attempt to escape?
To save itself from further toruture?
Who knows?
But
If only I could shrink right now
Starve, and Shrink, and Shrivel Away
Nov 29, 2018
Nov 29, 2018 at 11:12 PM UTC