A Private Corner



Cold black sour punches, scolding these features,
falling not just to the ground where my sex
is opened and tormented but to where
the demons hide and laugh, where I cower
inside mad stuttered dreams; awake, asleep.
The air's scratched, it pins me down with malice,
tears laugh away as I evaporate
into madness given with pleasured moans,
someone is screaming as I slip in death
and I wonder who, why don't they help me?

Used and fired across this time's wild expanse
my innocence drowned in the bog of love,
sex, you can call it what you want to now,
it matters not for I am dead inside,
wandering the graveyard forced into me.
Was it today this happened, yesterday,
a million years? Time plays tricks as I close
eyes on nothing-sometimes I hear people
dragging my name across fractured distance,
words thrown in a dance to me as I curl,
shrivel up into this private corner.
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Submitted on September 22, 2010

Modified on March 05, 2023

48 sec read
1

Quick analysis:

Scheme XXXAXXXXXB XXXXBXXXXXA
Closest metre Iambic pentameter
Characters 855
Words 158
Stanzas 2
Stanza Lengths 10, 11

Ian Sawicki

Ian Sawicki has been writing poetry for over twenty years. He is a Manchester born poet, who has dedicated his life to exploration and composition of poetry. His work reflects the many great influential experiences of his life, the pain, the pleasure combined to create new exciting poetry. If anyone is interested in my books then please visit my lulu storefront. All artwork on these books is by my own hand. http://stores.lulu.com/chasingtheday more…

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