"Call it panic, selfish, ecstatic"
Reeking of dog piss and body odor,
Smothered in cords, blankets, clothes and other odds 'n ends,
My home is humble.
I'm too busy to clean it,
I'm too lazy to pick up after myself.
I'm to attached to throw away
All memories in which I hold on to.
Her patience is a thread,
Stretching with such tension
That with any amount of pressure
It would surely snap.
I haven't done much,
I'm far too selfish.
I complain about helping too often,
But I don't help enough.
I hate myself for it.
I pretend to be modest, kind, and unselfish.
But my argument lacks proof.
If you are having doubts
I should be better.
Even when I leave this basement,
The stench will hang over me.
I can't run. I want to. But I can't.
posted by Civil Whisper @ 11:23 AM
5 comments
5 Comments:
This was very self reflective. I like that.. The first step to fixing the things you don't like about yourself, is acknowledging those problems. No i'm not in attendance with any self help groups.. But yeah... good work you your part. don't be too hard on yourself, just honest.
I speak english sometimes.
Great post of self realization. I thinks your mom is fun, even though you don't. I liked reading this and thinking of mornings when we woke up on the couches to the sound of your mother calling your name.
I like the last line.
Your house has a distinct smell. I like it.
I also thought of the same thing that you did Mackenzie. Graham Tilsley house smell. It smells of good times.
Post a Comment
<< Home