Funeral for all the things I could not say

 

& unuttered remains stack like dirty dishes

each one a word that could not bear itself in the presence of others

they refuse to exist like a spontaneous abortion

a liquidated will

 

in the mind field of clutter

cowpies and barefoot I graze; graciously reluctant

the hesitation, with its cementing determination

those ugly weeds that unearth themselves with barbed limbs

their lukewarm appetites, they don’t even ache

their provocative spikes feast on my fear

im no better

I do what they did, turn to them my back

& walk soflty

away-

and leave the anonymous unnamed.

 

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741