dotgraph, posts by tag: hate - LiveJournal

 So much middle ground
I beat my feet and palms against.
Too much middle ground 
and not enough.
One side of middle ground soaks through my skin 
I walk on needles
walk on spells of hatred
and denied shame.
Other side has no ground.
In dreams I teach myself to rise there.
On those sides, I have a favorite color.
I have emotion and opinion.
Now I am just tired and nonexistent to myself.
My color is grey
Feeling nothing
but suppression. 

Leper.
Birth defect.
I walk
crawl
bleed and pop pus
upon the ground I tread on
Skin falls in clutches
limbs creak and scrunch.
Bones like cartilage
cartilage marmalade
oil on mucus mussed eyes.
Procuring the will to move, so dig through my refuse and look for the diamond I once claimed to have.
If I could only find that sparkling drop
untainted.
Or did it fall behind through the crevices
in my rotted body
with the rest of the waste
I gift the earth with?
No, it must still be there.
Or I will be one of the ones that
never really leave
just a cloud of putrid hell smoke.
That never really haunts as it should.
Where is my diamond?
Where is the immortal slice of my soul?
Where is the thing I live to feed, even as my joints crumble?
Now I'm lost.
Have I told you how I hate myself?