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-untitled-
October 31, 2022
Cramped, sweaty, loud
slurs exchanged, see, hear,
hatred, jealousy, piercing skin
so much faster, deeper,
than daggers of steel and bone
it’s been a few years, right?
It doesn’t get better,
it’ll only get worse
and worse,
and worse,
until we crumple and fall,
pits of nothing
ironic, really
to fear what we create.
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it started as a poem about school hallways, in-between locker visits, etc. however throughout the poem it sort of morphs into something that can be applied to generally our society as a whole, which i didn't really like, but this is also sort of a draft and didn't take that long to write..so i guess it's not bad? at least for a first draft