Posted in Poetry

Submission – by Michael Marrotti


You would’ve


I was attending

a funeral

by the sight

of tears

swelling up

in my eyeballs

This breakup

was unexpected

this death I

could never

have predicted

This life

which was mine

equipped with

altered perception

is now buried

with my dealer

inside that casket

Each day I

slowly rise

from the depths

of that burial

dirty as can be


to get clean

I used to be more

than grey skies

in the forecast

liberated from

flu like symptoms


over obstacles

There was a time

when I would kill

murdering the pain

came easy

now with your death

and departure

the resource of

my pleasures

have been beaten

into submission


Michael Marrotti is an author from Pittsburgh with a chemical imbalance and lack of patience. His writing has propagated the small press like chlamydia in Beechview. He’s been faithfully volunteering at the Light Of Life Rescue…

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