Carrying

He carried me close like a submachine gun
protected me, respected me
and glorified me like the sun
I was the one
The one who could save him
from what he had become.
He was somebody worth saving,
ignorant and young.
He just didn’t understand how to love someone.
He held me close,
afraid I would run.

© By PollutedPoet

Acids

… and here I brood

congested thoughts; overwrought
nauseated by what I created

I hate who I have become

gorging anger to keep from swallowing regrets
choking on the force of hopelessness

I am furiously depressed

churning chunks of undissolved guilt
in ulcering acids of anxiety, sparring with society

I am emotionally dyspeptic
I hate who I’ve become

© By PollutedPoet

Idiot!

Your wit is galling
a phony riposte to all remarks
you rebuttle for acceptance
because it makes you feel like your smart
your not smart because of NatGeo
or because you wiki’ed it…
knowledge is comprehensive
a fact is not knowledge, until you comprehend it

Idiot!

© By Carina Fosse aka PollutedPoet On 3/8/2011 8:39:36 PM

The Silence Caught My Eye

Everything got quiet
I looked at the sky
The city was silent
The clouds rolled steadily by
Somehow the silence caught my eye

I saw silence through my window
for the very first time
Lying on my couch
I saw only skies
I only heard beauty through my window, 5 floors high

A colorful spectrum of dawning sunlight
Overpowering the neon of night
not a passerbyer passing by
not a taxi cab in sight
Somehow this silence doesn’t feel so right

Eerie as if I was in a storm’s eye
Danger must be near by
I can’t sleep if it’s bizarrely quiet outside
So I’ll just continue to stare
at this new and peculiar sky

and I will hope and wait…  for the city to come alive

© By PollutedPoet On 10/29/2010 1:58:05 PM

Epigram for a Bitch

Sarcastic and dark, she has a pessimistic humor
her irony is cold and she is as serious as a tumor

her weaknesses are hidden behind her dark sarcastic wit
she defends herself through insults, she’s a harsh and cruel critic

she’s proud to be a bitch, she calls it her juvenalian satire
but what she doesn’t realize is that we only see her as a liar

© By PollutedPoet On 2/6/2010 6:46:26 PM

Chill

Chill.
Relax.
Take a vital breath
Life isn’t that bad yet.
You will stress yourself to death.
I can see that you are stressed.
Why live with such regret?
Get out of this mess?
Chill.
Forget. 

© By PollutedPoet On 3/5/2010 4:38:26 PM

This is What Love Can Do

The stench of burning flesh
your charring corpse is making me nauseous
but, I’ll have to live with it, I guess
you got me into this mess
and caused your own death

I didn’t exactly kill ya,
but that makes no sense
so now I’m stuck destroying the evidence
turning your scorched limbs into mince
to avoid all the brutal consequence

I know I watched you die
without out blinking an eye
I could have helped you, if I tried
but for some reason I enjoyed…
watching you fry

somewhere in my psychotic mind
there is a reason why
I’m so fuckin’ happy that you died!
I no longer have to hide
but your evil has now warped my own mind!

Damn… Do you know what I just realized?
I’m as evil as you!
A murderer disguised
hiding behind these lies
I also deserve to die

I’ll kill myself too
just another body to remove
this is what love can do
I guess I am meant to be stuck with you
© By PollutedPoet On 9/18/2010 1:22:14 PM

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