why

This is not a happy poem. If you're looking for sunshine and daisies, go somewhere else. This is a little heavy...

 

 

 

 

because i could wallow in blank space

            or maybe pour another glass of clear liquid

            to quell the trashing or

            blow the snowclouds from my mirror.

and because last night he mentioned things i’ll never carry

            deep inside of me,

            i closed and drew blood

            in sweet red sauce.

                                    yesterday, i thought i could smoke these specters out

                        with howled melodies and the azure eyes of my cat,

                        or tarot card bookmarks.

                        i cut HAPPY off my birthday cake.

                                                            i remember kneeling down to language –

                                                now its these pills.

                                                eight a day, they say, will turn me back.

                                                truth is: up my nose or down my throat

                                                bears no mind to me.

i’m searching for silence in my head.

and since i’m wrapped in this blanket that stinks of sex

            i’ll bribe the words with flesh,

            or rip them out;

            anything to escape the accusing white of this page

                                    its fur

                                    fermentation

                                    permutation

                                    gall covered plastic on my feather bed

                                                            where i think on the ocean and dream of sleep

                                                that never comes

                                                without a fistful of pills

                                                or an empty bottle

empty?

i don’t even know what that word means

Author's Note

I wrote in all lower caps on purpose, so no nitpicking on that!

Reviews

[[untitled]]

great f*****g job, man.

I'm not really a fan of happy poems as it is.....the more depressing the better...and you're right...you did get something beautiful out of it. wonderful job.

[Eyeliner Rebel Boy]

This is amazing!

[S.E. Conway]

i LOVE LOVE LOVE layouts like this...

it really brings thought patterns into it...

very well done
three thumbs up ^.^

-s.e.

I liked this. I thought the way you wrote about this subject is very thought provoking. My mom was like this. Pills supposed to make her better but they turned her into a zombie. I can relate. Great poem!

[Tina Kline]

I don't feel happy all that much and I relate better to sadness and darkness. Your poem hits it right on the spot. And that empty feeling? Like an ache that just won't go away. And pills can be that answer, lots of pills, in more ways then one. Your poem is really good. You know the language.

Tina

[Seriana]

Damn girl, I love it! I'm in a mood for the darkness today, so this hit the spot. Great write! And empty? Hum....how does one even start to describe that?