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The Eclectic Pen - The Poetry of Self-Loathing

By: Amy P. (amysedai)   + 2 more  
Date Submitted: 7/30/2007
Genre: Literature & Fiction » Poetry
Words: 111
Rating:

The Poetry of Self-Loathing What thundercloud is this? Staring, with bared teeth, At this destroyer of falsities Glaring in this awful mirror I could use my fist To break it, cut my arms with the shards. Then it would be gone. But what good would it do to kill the messenger? What good would all that bleeding do? Can’t bleed the sickness, Even if I try to Whatever happens to that mirror, The truth is still here. Maybe it should be punished for reminding me Of every sick and sad inadequacy. But whose fault is it that I regret? And whose fault that I can’t forget? Well down is where you wanted me And down is where I am. Now my fist is bleeding from that awful mirror But the truth is still here.

The Eclectic Pen » All Stories by Amy P. (amysedai)

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