Drain

I closed everything off and let my pen and my subconscious do the work on this one. I just found it in one of my old notebooks. Its exactly as the title describes. Draining whatever flows out of me. It was the most fun I've had writing if I can remember.

Somehow...

I saw the prize implode

Liquid dreams are in the show.

Vaugely I can recognize

A candy heart and plaster flies.

You don't have to follow me

I'm a maniac diseased.

Turn around and look away

but the monkey on your back can stay.

Burdens only hold so much

Skin is sensitive to touch.

Growing now into your hand

Take me to a foriegn land,

Where innosense does not exist

And temptation needn't to resist.

Only drawing closer still

To the line that never fills.

I could go on for days

Memories and objects fade.

Passed the test but here I sit

Nothing changed except the slip.

Papers flip from white to pink

F**k the place that drowns in ink.

On and on I rant and rave

Nothing stopping me to leave.

Only me and fear of change

Arms are stretched beyond my range.

Machines are turning, working hard

Human lives we can discard.

Living page to page and file

cards and folders gone for miles.

Cohearent lines I've given up

Draining nonsence into a cup.

Listen up cause here comes more

Ears are bleeding on the floor.

Dialog is overrated

Silence talks to me so jaded.

Cracked cement and walls surround

A dungeon where I'm gagged and bound.

Convey to me, why have you come?

To laugh at me, the human scum?

Scrape me off your boot and walk

Leave me here to lay and rot.

I'll pick me up on my own accord

And take my inquaries to the lord.

Wasted space and heated chairs

that b***h fell down a flight of stairs.

Foolish now but it's still fun

Not sure if I'm really done.

Exasurbate my living soul

Expell the light into the hole.

It live down deep into the depths

And sinks it's teeth into my chest.

Poisoned now I'm lost to you

But I'll give advice before I'm through.

Don't listen to a word I've said

It means nothing until I'm dead.

Maybe then I'll find a friend

To take me to the promise land

but until then...

This is all that you get.

No need to hide your dissapointment.

Author's Note

hook me up with spelling errors, Im sure there are many. It's been two years since I wrote this and believe it or not I remember what every line meant. even if it sounds like nonsense it meant something to me.

Reviews

[Marquise]

inquaries is misspelled, but who cares!!! its a darn good poem my friend.. darn good indeed. Exasurbate is to, but who cares again.

[Deanarrlack]

You sent me a read request for this, not sure how long ago, I've been off of here for a long time. Anyway:

To critique on structure or whatever would be pointless, this is an emotion filled piece that was obviously of some kind of therapeutic benefit (I imagine at least). I enjoyed it, as Dan Bullock mentioned the stream of consciousness feel. Good write.

[lauren emily]

I love this..
It didn't sound like nonsense to me..it's very...raw..I applaud you for being able to show such..unedited emotion, is that makes sense.
~Lauren

[Dan Bullock]

Hah, streams of conscience!! Always a great way to write and let all the crap out....and the good things.

Kinda love this style because it's from whatever or wherever you are at the moment.

[Dave "Doc" Rogers]

Your note says it all. It is not the seemingly meaningless flow of words and phrases. It is the point of reference, a point in time for the writer. A memorial of sorts to times and places. To anyone else, a meaningless pile of rocks. To the one who put them there, it is a reminder of a time and place. Moments in time captured and returned upon seeing the memorial. It was an interesting exercise. Thanks for sharing this.

Cheers!
Doc.