Listen to the cruel world, and salt the earth behind you.
it’s ok to be angry and vengeful, feel your feelings. write a poem.
A new fog, has your mind clogged
unwavering apathy where warmth and empathy belonged.
Some place underneath,
lies what you do to keep yourself involved
to this, you cling.
Some of these things, are even charming.
Call yourself an artist.
Search for the “you” you and everyone else knew-
because right now, the only solace
is this mist that keeps you at a distance.
I guess it’s easier not to pine for something you’ve never known to exist.
It’s all been a gift because now you know there’s another side over this high fence.
All these years, too many people have handed you the shears.
What would anyone expect? a parting hug and kiss?
That’s when it clicks,
no more dragging through mud and sticks.
Why allow so many people you’ve loved,
to do you wrong?
why not save yourself the trouble of having to become
what everyone calls “strong”?
-g.m.t.
About the Creator
g.m.t
bare bones,
here are rests the things ive wrote,
to purge, to mend whats broke.
read, or dont. <3
The Devil's Cut
“Comrade, finally you’re awake.” The voice was smooth, sensual. A flickering incandescent bar was all that lit the white, sterile room. All Vladimir remembered was everything going black. He tried to move his arms and found them strapped to the gurney.
By Matthew J. Fromm5 days ago in Fiction
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