sludge monsters

sludge trickles down, obscuring my view
i listen and am not found
i speak but am not heard
it drips further, suffocating, slipping between parted lips
filling the narrow spaces between my teeth
i write a poem to be read by few
i put words on paper and expect nothing at all

for nothing good ever came from the lessons
i must be so strong, to have survived so many
yet i feel so weak, for that is my curse
standing straight, i show with my posture
“i am ready. come at me!”
when does it not? i merely aim to scare.
i fight daily and gain little

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