September 9, 2005
sinking in the hot black tar
it sticks to my feet
remembering the simple pleasures
steamy thick air burns when i breathe in
dreaming of the dark crevices
never would have guessed it would be so bright
too hot, too much light, beyond fright
hoping to exhale for eternity
lids that won't shut
dreams left far behind
peace is a distant memory
the ants dance on my eyes
sinking into the mire that lives beneath
slinking through the unfathomable ooze
stinking taste, much worse than it smells
inconceivable odiferous nausea as it swells back up
the only thing worse than this moment in hell
is the thought that just occurred to me
the thought that sickens beyond any words
this moment lives on as the bottomless well
Type: Poetry
Author: Steve Robison