It’s stagnant air
and I can’t breathe.
Never circulates
when I’m sick.
It just sits there
like heavy smoke
waiting for breath
to move it-
temporarily
and then curl into place
undisturbed
like nothing had happened.
Trying to be slim and healthy
disgusts me.
It’s just too strong a combo,
and I taste it in my throat
hours after my supposed cure.
And I can still pinch an inch…
…or two…
etcetera…
It’s stagnant life
I can’t breathe
and I’m stuck in my chair.
I personify laziness.
Can’t move.
Not
even
a
step.
I’m pinned down
under a cloud of weight-
endless stagnant wait.
Cars aren’t even driving by.
It’s the most beautiful day in months.
What am I doing tonight?
With my life?
I am stuffed and stagnant
and the air’s getting thicker
and harder to breathe.
Submitted by conect11 on 17 June 2007 - 3:00pm.
Style / Type:
freeform
(1 vote)
lol!
I think I wrote this April 1, 2006. I was on a slim fast diet, but was also sick, so I had just drank the slimfast, then drank some dayquil…. f*cking yuck! hence “trying to be slim and healthy, etc.” The poem in general was about how I felt my writing and life had grown stagnant. I wanted the first part to resemble a cloud of smoke that just hovered in place, thus the placement of the words.