I don't want to bleed anymore.
I don't want to pick pictures like fruit from better days,
Linger over them as the suicide of what was coats my tongue,
Pretty little cyanide to wash down the too-sweet disappointment
That this could never have been what I wanted it to be.
.
I don't want to follow the rules.
I don't want to wake up on time, roll out of bed, and touch
The world around me, watching as it burns beneath inquisitiveness.
Starting the morning with a cup of coffee and bombs flashing
In the glassy haze covering my eyes is no way to live.
.
I don't want to be another number
And no matter what I do, I can feel myself sliding into a statistic,
Shifting and changing into something that has no name.
Click, pop, hiss of the energy drink because my heart won't beat
Without stimulation these days, without a prod, a poke, a plea.
About the Creator
Silver Daux
Shadowed souls, cursed magic, poetry that tangles itself in your soul and yanks out the ugly darkness from within. Maybe there's something broken in me, but it's in you too.
Ah, also:
Tiktok/Insta: harbingerofsnake
Keep reading
More stories from Silver Daux and writers in Poets and other communities.
If You Love Me, You'll Do It
I met Jason when I was five years old. I could say that I loved him from the moment I saw him. He was so handsome to me and I felt in awe by his presence. When they introduced him as the new kid in school, I wanted to be his friend right away. I remember it like it was yesterday. I remember his smile and how he didn't seem shy. He appeared confident and ready to learn. I waved at him and said "hello," before anyone else could even say a word. He sat next to me, and I asked him if he wanted to be friends. He looked so happy as he said, "Yes!"
By Sidney Smith (Sid Smith)8 days ago in Fiction
Comments (8)
Such a feeling of smallness in this with that edge of insignificance always in sight. As always, very well wrought, Silver!
More painful poetry - the poem is brilliant in its painful descriptions, like: I don't want to pick pictures like fruit from better days, Linger over them as the suicide of what was coats my tongue Excellent work. Hope this is not the current situation.
-And no matter what I do, I can feel myself sliding into a statistic,- That line gave me pause... Heavy but definitely needed to be said.
Nor me. There has to be a way to fight it, you know, but expressing it is good too.
Such melancholia in the one way street of existence... what a deliciously dreadful existence. Nicely done!! Also, I just seen you added your instagram on here. I swear every time I look at your bio under your stories it's different! 😅
I felt this one. It speaks to my fears.
Brilliant visceral pain piece
The whole world feels like it's poised on the edge of a knife right now. Great piece.