Below The Surface
Below the surface
I fear things,
like, who am I?
and the future, more than the past.
But I can hide here,
inside, below the surface
away from their words,
apart from their scandalous innuendos
trying to seep in as some sewage.
Footsteps above, creaking dead wood
reminding of old bones,
piles, hip deep in a dream
dead bones, of living hunger
possessing its sickly odor.
In summer, the sun creeps in
pushing away sleepy somber,
awakens lust, filthy desires painted black
an animalistic urge to peel back skin,
showing you the inside,
how I really feel, below the surface.
My first thought at the picture was to paste “The Dark Cage” there as it is such a fitting image for it. But I didn’t and came up with “Below The Surface” hoping to capture the same essence as “The Dark Cage” but with a 2009 look. Once it was finished, I realized nothing has changed…nothing.