WASTE

My thoughts are eternally submerged in a mire of self-disgust.

I watch, aloof as the filth of this cruelty is accumulating around me,

repugnant insults carried on the glistening spittle flying off my tongue.

Hate-filled thoughts create a layer of crusty grime, hardening on the floor,

in time, I can almost hear the poison residue growing brittle beneath my soles.

Vicious inward punishments form a loathsome slurry in a vat of toxicity,

its fathomless depths threaten to consume me whole, but no one notices.

Mirrors reflect wretched ugliness, feeding the festering rot flourishing inside me.

Occasionally detectable, a faint scent of childhood joy permeates my dreams;

distant memories of delight in satin hair-ribbons, silky between small fingers

or muffled night-sounds of teenage camp-outs on hot summer evenings.

But like a lighter flame, they’re vanishing as a door opens;

a gust of abhorrence fills the rooms of my mind with waste,

once more.

Photo Credit: _Pek_ Flickr via Compfight cc

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