Word Vomit
And the act of feeling cringe about your own writing.
I think that I'd like to vomit.
You know, puke up the day-old words
That are souring and rotting in my stomach.
They seem to live there in the hollows of my soul,
The one that's a little too soft for this world.
I don't want them there anymore but
That implies that I wanted them.
.
I never did want the bile-touched words.
Though so many great authors seem to love them.
I'm more of a fan of the polished, pearly prose relegated
To the lore of my own being, my brain, the very soul that decides
What gets to come out of my mouth, my pen, my keys.
It can start a wildfire when the kindling's right.
Except, I'm damp inside like a wet match.
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:
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Comments (9)
Thanks for this beauty words Spit out the words that festered into venom’s hue— Your soul’s a wildfire, igniting magic in what’s *true*. Let dampened matches stall—your fate’s a rose in bloom, Where heaven’s rain will rise to sate the drought in you.
Can't imagine any reason for you to ever cringe, but I guess it happens to us all! Felt that wet match line in my core
This sure was relatable. Loved your poem!
Fantastic
Those last two lines. Fantastic.
Relatable 😆
ugh, this felt so.....ugh. Great poem
This is relatable to a point. I do love the way you express these feelings. I have to say, though, I've never read a vomit-worthy word in your poems or stories! Great poem!
Your endings? They're always so good, bringing it back and socking it to the reader. Excellent.