Rust

No one to trust

I’m just useless.
A broken rusting tool.
I am nothing.
Just a drunk, restless, wrestling fool.
I am air.
I am poisoned air.
Just there.
Gathering dust.
There is no one out there.
No one I can trust.
I am dust.
I am air.
There’s no one I can trust.

There’s a rag doll that’s replacing my bones.
There’s a mad dog that’s replacing my brain.
There’s a dead ghost that’s replacing my heart.
There’s a clock ticktocking in my feet.
Making me want to move to a beat.
But I can’t move anymore.
Because the bones, brain, and heart.
Aren’t there
Anymore.

I am useless.
A broken rusting tool.
I am nothing.
Just a drunk, restless, wrestling fool.
I am air.
I am poisoned air.
Just there.
Gathering dust.
There is no one out there.
No one I can trust.
I am dust.
I am air.
There’s no one I can trust.

My skin is yellow.
I am dying.
My eyes are black.
I must be dead.

Why do I keep doing this to myself?
Why do I keep doing this to myself?
Why do I keep doing this to myself?
I have to ask myself
Over and over again.
What am I doing to myself?
What’d I do to get in this Hell?
Why did I let you in
All over again?

I am useless.
A broken rusting tool.
I am nothing.
Just a drunk, restless, wrestling fool.
I am air.
I am poisoned air.
Just there.
Gathering dust.
There is no one out there.
No one I can trust.
I am dust.
I am air.
There’s no one I can trust.
No one I can trust.
I am useless.
I am rust.

Reviews

[Christina May Shanaberg]

This poem has very powerful wording to express the emptiness of loneliness and distrust. It was an easy read; everything written right on the surface of the poem, without making the reader wonder what the writer is talking about. I liked it very much and enjoyed reading it, as well.