as I became aware
building up became stacking needles of pine
as I became aware
settling down became sitting down
as I became aware
pause for breathing became breaking of heart
as I became aware
tickling feet became turned backs at night
as I became aware
the plan became
void
Single malt badger
Pouring one out for the homies
Sipping in somber respiteSingle malt badger
Scoring on the DL with the hunnies
Succeeding in love despiteSingle malt badger
Touring desire with when it’s sunny
Drinking in a day long nightlifeSing malt badger
My spirited spirit animal of sorts
I got you tattooed on my liver from out days in court.prompted by @circle-no-10
Cheers!
not sure what is worse
fruit flies hovering around you daily tipple
or having smacked the life out the f*
it gets the final laugh
and drowns in it
and as the autumn leafs start dropping
I frown and lose myself in thought
is love perhaps reserved only
for those between the age of hope
and the chains of a 12% mortgage?
what of those searching souls; longing
the frail and withered corpses tumbling
tumbling with the weeds;
an OK Corrall backdrop
with the sheriff dead,
the coyote howling
the hero riding off
in solitude
never searching
always finding
reason to stay
mortgage free
I unblocked the root chakra today
a plunger used with force
the gravity of the situation
cannot fully be told
It’s either
an outgrowth
of power cords
or a salad.
The first bite
will reveal.
There’s nothing to add. Tears are flowing. Brilliant as always!
One girl was local. She shopped local, loved local, and was buried local.
I know a boy wishing he remained local, never escaping, searching but never finding what always had been within reach, at the local. As Death calls he might still make it back, empty handed.
I got punched in the face,
office cat fight,
using corporate email.
Alone at my desk
someone walked up and
punched me
right between the eyes.
Falling hard, breathless
pounding heart,
a panic attack no doubt
kept sanity not
punching back.
No black eye
No visible scars
Yet nothing will
ever be the same.
In the virtual world
the punches
still hurt as much
I reach for the remote
frantically searching for fast forward
to get where I need to be
for dawn to arrive and for
the darkness to fade
behind me
Only intoxicated can I
stand – alone – being alone
being just one where
there ought to be
more.
Only intoxication,
fumes evaporating
through my skin
can keep the numbness
at the proverbial bay.
Only toxic thoughts
the pinball game
inside my head,
a perpetual dream of
never
ending
horrors.
