Subconscious

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic


It's a poem on the Subconscious

Submitted: December 27, 2017

A A A | A A A

Submitted: December 27, 2017

A A A

A A A


You withered hag—

Poisoned with a death of language—

Your sagging breasts

Make me bitter with

False promises made…..

You feed my brain with

Dreams that are a stale sausage….

And the dreams, they materialize 

As toxic wounds that deprive the soul….

I urge, plead and beg with you….

Fill me with light hearted banter….

Remind me not of short comings

Or frailties that have made my

Life a broken scythe. 


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