Mostly Poetry — Poetry Mostly

"I knew that that word was like the others: just a shape to fill a lack"

Month: January, 2012

Anchor

It feels as though I have been thrust into the ocean with an anchor latched to my heart. Besieged by the depths of the churning, black ocean that I am dragged into as a lost soul is dragged into the pits of Hell. Down, down I sink. Faster and faster. I struggle, fight, gasp for air. My screams are muffled. The toxic salt water suffocates me. The anchor pulls me down, down, down…

Breathless.

Blackness.

Nothing.

My hatred for you burns inside, scorching all that is within me. It bubbles up like vomit, nearly spewing out. One day it will errupt and it will sear you like it has cremated me.

Please either grow up or leave

To you I will never again cleave

You act like a child

You’re stubborn and mean

Of you I want my life to be cleaned