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Matthew Jul 2014
Every self defeating metaphor anyone has ever birthed
A mug of orange juice in a giant’s hand
Three tablespoons of soil that you will misidentify as dirt
A motif specific to the reader
The sound of a tree falling alone in a forest
A manual titled Insects in the Garden of Today: Pests & Benefactors
Three redwood seeds in a row without pause
My go at surrealism. Let me know what you think!
Mariah Apr 15
Can't you see me?
Can't you see?
How its supposed to be
You had to teach me

A burdensome chore
You chose to ignore
So you left me alone
Wondering why I did so on my own

Now I know nothing
I'm always running
Under the pressure
I'm crumbling

The unformed person
Hiding behind the curtain
Ashamed of being the burden

Now you can't see-
but when you think of me
I'm gone and you're still  
Hating me  

How I'm ought to be
It isn't clear to me
And I'm sure you'd happily agree
I am lost at sea

You were so headstrong
About knowing all along
I was unworthy and ugly, loud and wrong
Now I suffer
Nowhere to belong


You can no longer tell me to go
This is my home
Piece by piece, blood and bone
I built it on my own  

You know of my unbearable pain
Trying to live life your way
And you know I couldn't stay
When you were the one sending me away

I don't want to grow old
With my life feeling cold
All thrown away
Feeling myself decay

Its not my responsibility
Your incivility
Never a child to you,
But a void of hostility

Your high horse far away from me
And I know,
that even though
I can't see you looking down
It is a certainty

Creative were your reasons
To deny the diseases
That plagued our house of stalled seasons
So look away, so you don't need to believe in
The winter that we lived in

Deny, deny, deny
The distance between you and I
Came from you, and your willingness to
Misidentify
"This child is not mine,
It Chooses to defy,
There is Rot inside."
And I can never be satisfied
With your answers when I ask why

"You, you, you-
You chose to do-
Everything bad that happened to you."

How could I
When I was the child in knots
And you were the tie

If I am a Bad Egg-
and I am Rotten -
Then you were the Broken,
Beaten Down fridge that I was in
For my mother.
I never wished it of you, but I will die someday, just like you want me to.
And maybe then, you could finally be proud.
Or at least, you could finally stop haunting me.
CharlesC Jan 2019
in brief..
we misidentify our bodies
by forms assumed over
our years..

experience reports the
images by which we
have contained and weighed
and gendered the body
for so long..

now we must ponder that
our time-space body
as it walks and talks
is quite narrowing of a
new dimensionless
recognition..
in brief...

— The End —