Chillen in the crawlspace
Tv plays things
Hanging with spiders
We are free to exist
A bottle of wine inside
Rather not drink the poison
Still going to my head
Tonight I keep hidden
So many words gone
Fading in a distant memory
The terrible things I did to me
Hurt when it comes
Intoxicated when I leave
All fragments in time
Trapped under our house
Rusty nails feel like home
Its all inside my drunken mind
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Author:
bones (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: February 12th, 2026 00:56
- Category: Short story
- Views: 15
Offline)
Comments2
Thoughts that seem like they would occur during a drunken spell. Nicely done
Your poem is very dark. The imagery of a crawlspace serves as a metaphor for hiding from the world and grappling with one's inner demons. The mention of wine suggests a desire to escape reality, while the presence of spiders evokes feelings of discomfort and neglect.
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