it's noon

It's noon and still have yet to draw a bath

to paste myself to the ebony and ivory

tile wall

that is closing in on me

I need to wash away

this hangover

put a hot wet cloth

over my face

and breathe deep spiritual breaths

I need the steam to encapsulate me

to become my cell wall

to allow me to dream vividly

and stain these yellow pillows

with honorable tears

The week has run me into the ground

I would sell my soul to feel an ounce of purity

but..at this age

the weeks only get longer

and the drinks become heavier

the water does nothing

blessed or unblessed

I blow the bubbles away

revealing a shriveled

impotent old man

Reviews

[twig]

i love your voice in this.
it doesn't seem whiney, but it has feeling...
it reminds me of the voice used when holding back tears
the "trying to stay strong" voice

[Destiny]

This is a very visual piece. This poem is accompanied with a long deep sigh. If only a bath could wash away the pains of a long week. the world would be a lot cleaner at least. Thank you for writing.
♥Destiny♥

[Ether Words]

I've only been on this site for one day but so far this is the best poem I've read. It paints an image...and I love that.

[MrJodie]

Full of desperation and longing for life right up to the ending twist. Almost like watching a middle aged man burn himself out. I love the way you used the "hangover" to imbue a constant, nagging pain that seems to "hang over" everything.

Excellent form and well written. Great job.

[Charisma Moonfairy]

Very well written and a good read as well. It flows very well and the imagery is ust as good as the flow of the words.

[Jessica L Auster]

I liked this peice.
"put a hot wet cloth

over my face

and breathe deep spiritual breaths"

That was my favorite part of this, because that sounds pretty good right now. lol. but keep up the good work!