Nasty has been bugging me long time about me and my apparently “moody, gothic” teenage years and all the dark goth poetry I must have written.
He imagines that I must’ve wore black all the time, with those chunky knee-high strappy platform boots and long bangs over my eyes covering half of my face.
Funnily enough, I had short hair probably during at least half of my teens.
Anyways, in order to give him his satisfaction, this is a “poem” I must have written during one of those dark stormy years….
Note: read with a scowl and cold stare, preferably with black mascara under your eyes. Try whispering too at the same time.
Many times you look
Without knowing what you’re searching for
Until you realize
It’s always been inside you
In that deep dark hole
of my heart
I struggle to break free
Key words: deep dark hole
Apparently, this “deep dark hole” should be a staple of my “poetry”.
Come to think of it, why don’t we all try writing a poem with “deep dark hole” in it?
(Oh gosh, I can already imagine all the, um, alternative holes that can be written about…)