Waste

Words come to me in a rush. I am inspired oh how the view of filth does stir the narrator within. I see so much skin, so much flesh. How we are all given to equally, 2 of this, and 2 of that, or 1 if it be in the middle. How we all stand patient waiting for all we seek. How we repress our urge and fall in line for falsity, we relent to the order of this madness and wait naked, excited, and craning to catch a glimpse. In moments like these life seems to hold nothing beyond a wick burning. Begging to exhaust all it contains as quickly as possibly. Burning to nothing, I want to see in her eyes and ask how much life has let down. How that inner voice had been turned off. Who talked her into being where she was. I prey in my heart she isn't doing it for the money. I hope her sickness is quenching some itch within apart from worldly things. At least then I couldn't understand. I hope she doesn't have to drive in her filth, and live in her filth. This perversion, this debauchery will rot her from within. She will be as a dead tree in the woods stands, a imitation of life, seen as normal from sufficient distant. All the world left to do but only meant to fall and be consumed by the floor. Never again to cast shadow, never again to be anything. 

A waste

Reviews

[r. f. jordan]

the speaker within this piece does a yeoman's job of informing the reader of the despair that has led to this place of judgment. the pain explained is real and palpable. "In moments like these life seems to hold nothing beyond a wick burning." this line appears to capture the essence of pain, and yet a flicker of hope regardless. "I prey in my heart she isn't doing it for the money." is an interesting line because it could easily have gone with the more contextual pray, but does not. theory one, a mistake i make often in writing, is that it was intended to be "pray" but the possible typo made it through customs at the spell-check because it spells another word. i like theory two better, that the speaker and author intends for the line to read as if this person has fallen "prey" to the predator within the innocence of their own heart. either way, i enjoyed the poem.

[jake85]

Thanks R.F. Jordan, I appreciate the review. Unfortunately theory one is correct, After your elaboration I wished it had been intentional but can't claim a mistaken layer of depth as my own creativity. I think doing so would some how erase any tidbit that I possess outright. I have never really written to write, drawing and painting are my nightlife but I am seeing how words are just as dynamic, difficult, and rewarding. I enjoy you works, and sense my greenhorn because of them.