PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I know now it was my life line in the womb

As a young-in I'm sure it was many a inanimate objects tomb

My navel is dark and scary. but it inst barren

Full of wrinkles and lint. and this scent that's daring

How deep does it reach. what secrets does it hold.

My belly hair seems to be curious, definitely bold

Like a deep sea diver hunting for treasure

But get out of the way belly hair, this is my pleasure

Insert index finger to the lowest back est corner. . . and scrape up

I find nothing but wont give up

I just need to push deeper till I find something, anything to rest my case

I wont let this effort I'm putting forth be a waste

I push deeper till it hurts. . . and then push some more

I enter a new dimension. . . my face on the floor

Shit this hurts. . . but there's no going back

I plunge deeper. . . then I here a snap

Just my wrist from this awkward angle

I breathe a sigh of relief, my ass in the air a dangle

I said no going back, but what does that mean

I'm doomed to only go forward, pretty reckless dream

I look down at my hand, my right index finger is gone, except a knuckle

That's my limit, I slowly retract but the pain makes my knees buckle

I fall on my side and start to wheeze

. . . Jeez

I cant go to the hospital for this

I wont go to the hospital for this

In one sharp burst I thrust my hand out

I let out a loud whimper, but refuse to shout

Blood on my hands and in my mouth

I bit my lip. I let it bleed out

I left my adventure with no treasure but I didn't return empty handed

I new lesson not to dig for pleasure and a new appreciation for the navel I was branded