TRAPPED Options

[Guest_alice_*]

this was written some time ago. I have changed the title a few times..

As she turns
the sagging mattress moves
Sherry bottles clink under the bed
and a line of dirt, wall to wall
fills her unchanging landscape
Once she allowed the tug
of hands in matted hair
welcomed it
now the throb of neglect rips and tears
clinging to her neck like a warm artery
Images buckle themselves to her heart
And little secrets push shadows into her lungs
until she can hardly breathe
Red liquid runs from her mouth
And as sleep takes shape
She figures she’d rather look through a bottle
Than be trapped on the outside


Alice44

[Sekhmet]

Hello Alice - an evocative description of absolute degradation, and a chilling reminder of where drink can lead.
Yet, I worry about why you return, so often, to rename a poem written such a long time ago. It was well recieved as it stood. None of my businees, I know. I am hoping that it is simply that you are, rightly, proud of this excellent poem.
Leo