by Matthew Sharp

the pendulum stabs over the scabs under the being too close for the host isnt seeing isnt believing up your sleaving not breathing til it capture the meaning of dreaming and drowning a pool of sweat wet the bed crawl to your basket casket made couch move over slouch oscar the grouch isnt mean enough to take your cookies look me in the eye i cant keep contact after i try to lie to your heart while i rip it apart a disaster turned art when im falling apart i mustve saw the place and the time as another piece of evidence in the crime im doing time believe me no more deceiving into jobs im not qualified for im the market whore beating the bottom the drill bits spends thought the momentum would never end but it has by being running over by the next soul endeavor dont think i havent thought about forever its never ending


Author's Note:

Posted on 05/20/2010
Copyright © 2021 Matthew Sharp

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Charlie Morgan on 05/20/10 at 02:23 AM

...matthew, i could feel this...i read it twice and complimentaryily, it wore me out, ;-), i did/do love the verbal gymnastics of this rap[if you will]and the connected life-drama that it's all about, certainly not telling you your own art, just saying i am in awe of something that is alive, this piece lives.

Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 05/20/10 at 02:50 PM

Frantic, desperate and very powerfully written.

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