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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Dark · #2296043
About a man who never cleans his room
Stenches and stories rise like vapor
From the bedroom soil
Secrets scribbled on scraps of paper
With food stains so spoiled

Upraised noses feel the tension
Desperate not to sniff
His thoughts want too much attention
The smell brings us to a cliff

We are desperate not to jump down
Into the smells and the dirt
Where senses could drown
And souls will get hurt

A stained mattress embarrasses
With emissions, spills and mold
Out-stretched fingers could touch viruses
Down there in the uncontrolled

The vacuum cleaner is brand new
Yet covered in dust
There is no pathway through
All these objects of disgust

We have only just arrived
And we long to leave
Our lungs desperate to be revived
In fresh air that we can breathe

No woman's touch can be seen
In this lonely fortress of despair
Only the brave and bold have been
Into this man's lair

Find me a way to freedom
Get me out of here
And I will write God a te deum
And we can share a beer

The mists and smells of darkness
Waft upwards from the floor
In this suffocating stillness
I am shaken to the core

Here prayers were only words
Not translated into deeds
Bibles lie in what looks like turds
As tentacles reach from the weeds

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