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Woe and Tell

 

Title: Grey Matthew

Format: Poem
Submitted by: Kristin
Rating: Seek Therapy


Backstory
A poem written when I was 17 and hopelessly depressed. I worked in a bookstore and swooned for one of the managers who was 23 and wore a grey shirt.

Why is this mortifying?
I took my crushes damn seriously and soon after the writing of this poem, we ended up dating. Did he have any concept of how immature I was?

Mortifying Text
GREY Matthew

Adorned with grey

Grey seeps through his skin

Into his matthew motif

The grey in his eyes

With window open

It shows his soul cries

Vital signs, no one can deny

REALITY

He is like an infant with nothing to hide

His mind is as deep as the ocean and 20 miles wide

His heart can break open onto a page

The contents dance w/out delay

The comodity of his mind glows

Where ever he goes

Everyone knows

The clone of who iknow

The one and only, the only one

"Whatever it costs..."

The one and only, the only one

"Please don't get lost"

The one and only, the only one

Stay grey


Reader Comments

Rated: Okay, Now You're Starting to Scare Me
By: chance
:) i love the deep as the ocean and 20 miles wide and the comodity of his mind parts

Rated: Okay, Now You're Starting to Scare Me
By: ren
I remember those days when I couldn't deny REALITY either ... ahh, melodrama

Rated: Okay, Now You're Starting to Scare Me
By: pawketaces
You know when grey seeped through my skin I didn't have any horny 17 year olds crushing on me. I even put some salve on it. Damn picky bitches.

Rated: Okay, Now You're Starting to Scare Me
By: kp
stay grey matthew, stay grey

Rated: Seek Therapy
By: Gary 7 Infiltrator
HA!! That rocks. "Into his matthew motif." Love it.

Rated: Okay, Now You're Starting to Scare Me
By: peanutbryttle
I like the "His heart can break open onto a page/The contents dance w/out delay" part of the poem. Makes me think of a heart breaking and blood pouring out without delay.

Rated: Most Mortifying
By: fungus amongus
There is a gray man here at work. His skin is gray, his hair is gray, his clothes are gray. As long as he stays in his little gray officem nobody seems to care which way the commodity of his mind grows.

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