My Reflection In The Toiletty Waters

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
taken from my book, "Taking Our Sweet Little Time"

Submitted: November 13, 2013

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Submitted: November 13, 2013



My Reflection In The Toiletty Waters


I fall on my brains that have splattered

And slip thru the cracks down to infinity

Epiphanies of the targeted cross that I carry

Flood thru the minds that I no longer have

Just as weightless as my heart is in any wonder

Mainly, my pizza eating skills, could not get me

Thru any college that I hesitated to leave

I ain't the sparkle in my hair now

'Cause I don't even have any

Won't the tips of my suggestions just digest already?

I don't want spirits to speak of my subjects

Yet, the door is open all the way

And shit talking surrounderers called "people"

Just elevate my conscious awareness

That all is not going to be great

If a marble, or a pebble, got thrown into the sea

Where am I going to see, any change in me?

I just want a pencil to act like a pen

And never rub off the paper

But pencil is not a permanent marking

Whatever's written with it, just cannot stay

I'll lash out to the surrounderers

When their all in my way

Lucky for me, they won't go near me

Because they're too good to even bother

Since I'm not worth their time

Only a mumble out of their mouths

Just as empty as any conversation

That can ever be heard

By my poor big ol' Dumbo ears

The weight of my problems is not remembered

But I'll eat thee esophagus of my insides

And land far away from my own time machine

Sell me a cracker worth eating

And I'll let the marker snap, all around me

To hear none of it, would cause me to laugh

To fear all of it, would empty my sack

I carry not, but imagine I still have

So far cut off into the lingerings of all of me

Now that the heaviness is upon me

In a much more suitable fashion now

Now that thee air I breath in

Inches it's way to the death of me

One breath at a time, until I do die

Chuckling at the chunks blown

Into a ceramic bowl that releases

Such a massive amount of fruit punchy phlegm

From the mouth of my fractured face

All torn away into a look back into my own eyes

Only that monster inside of me knows why

I am even looking down, at all


11-03-'13 #2

D. L. Cannon

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