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Apr 14, 2026
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Is this how I have always been?
Blink my eyes awake
Light streams in-
Too many sources.
Why does my brain feel so tight in inside my skull?
I’m in a room I’ve never seen before,
And I cannot move.
My body doesn’t feel like my body.
I don’t quite remember who I am, or ever was.
It stinks in here.
Sour.
Leftovers in the sun.
Someone is here,
And something happens.
I move towards the waste of rotting scraps.
A part of me reaches for it and for a moment the stench is all around me and I’m engulfed
Until I feel a rush of air hit my windpipes and the reek is now inside
Emanating through every crevice of this vessel
The hot, sweet, sick smell settles over my stomach like a fog over a lake
I have no reaction.
Is this how I have always been?
About This Poem
Last Few Words: A friend of mine asked me what I would do if one day I woke up a sentient vacuum with too many eyes that was forced to eat garbage. This is my poem from that perspective :-)
Style/Type: Free verse
Review Request Intensity: I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Editing Stage: Not actively editing
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