Born a barren mother to myself
Abandoned into a chasm of despondency
Drowning in a sea of overwhelming inequity
Weighed down by ages of grief
Assaulted by the needle fine
Nails of self-loathing
Scratching through my saturated overcoat
The only one able to mount an escape
From the roiling oceans of disparity
Its briny reek clinging to my hair
Hand-over-hand clinging to the grinding stone face
As the battering weight of my memory
Tries to wash me back into the depths
Grasping oblivion come to take
Every new obstacle
More staggering than previously staked
Nothing will break me down now
If no bomb hurled at me
Has reduced me to ash and gore yet
K.B. Silver
About the Creator
K.B. Silver
K.B. Silver has poems published in magazine Wishbone Words, and lit journals: Sheepshead Review, New Note Poetry, Twisted Vine, Avant Appa[achia, Plants and Poetry, recordings in Stanza Cannon, and pieces in Wingless Dreamer anthologies.
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CH 20~ Party Down
Argento’s ninth (eighteenth in earth years) Birthday came and went Thursday, the thirteenth, and he’d already received his father’s gift, if you could call it that. You had to commit a fairly serious infraction to be cut off; the Arch-Baron was keeping up appearances and maintaining his own reputation as much as any sense of love or attachment to Argento with his “gift.”
By K.B. Silver Exclusive • 6 days ago
Comments (5)
💙wonderful
Wow so rich and deep.
Amazing poem!
Such a captivating poem and well written, good luck.
Born a barren mother to myself.....I could ponder that line for days!