Falling Thin

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Just your typical teenage angst poem.

Submitted: December 11, 2012

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Submitted: December 11, 2012




When the beat and flash attack my senses,

when I quail behind dead ears and shut eyes,

it's clear there will be no recompenses

for the stubborn endurance I cling onto

and despise.


My vocal cords might pack in through lack of use.

A brain weary of thinking and sick of knowing,

drowning in a pool of its own madness.

Look upon the lives of others and weep

for their mess.


The fumes of intoxication will poison

all good will and sincere thought.

I clench a cloth of stench, choke on

through the layers of euphoria

and find pain.


A pump between myself and the unknown,

I'm powerless to stop the draining that

feeds their rapturous indulgence.

When it's over I deflate, pressed down

by the unbearable weight of air.


At the edge I stand, back turned,

as society tries to fit in and implodes.

Never mind.

I walk delicately away from the

smouldering remains of your alien world.

© Copyright 2017 Mathew Nicolson. All rights reserved.