by Ryan Nardi

i am a monster
and my guts boil
i am full of life
wasting away
like steam bubbling off
of a water shape's surface
i am a waste of life

i am when all is lost
even then
even at the end
i cannot get away
i am the wasted day
i am the grey sunlight
razoring through the shades

i am the absence of a holy cross

he who can relate
the emptiness of outerspace
to himself within himself
identify all without himself
can no longer look to god
can no longer face the day
without lying to his face
lying with his face
injecting veins with society
to keep the pace

i would starve to death
if it weren't for everyone watching
waiting on my next move
i still jump when they look

i'm jumpy

i am a lost cause

i'm a dog on a steel table
a swollen vein in his leg
and a look on his face
an undead look on his face

i've never been more alive
and it's killing me


Author's Note: written semi-freely with a loud subconscious/conscious simultaneous influence from bohren & der club of gore's album black earth in headphones

Posted on 05/20/2013
Copyright © 2023 Ryan Nardi

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Gail Wolper on 01/06/14 at 04:23 AM

dark dark dark! Well written.

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