I find respite in substance, well, some of the time. In the past, I've struggled with substance abuse. In times past, I could not sit with my feelings; in times past, I would reach for a crutch. Times past is never too far though, for tonight I reached for the bottle. Whiskey and coke, it … Continue reading groundhog day.
Category: Poetry/Prose
pain.
I'm a pain professional you see. I've suffered more than most. Pain is no longer a stranger to me; an old friend. A boot through my door is how he chooses to enter, lifting me up by the throat, pinning me against the wall; pain is back again. With one swift motion pain slams me … Continue reading pain.
lovesick.
When we're apart, I feel that I lack; I feel that something is amiss, and it's you. A sinking hollow feeling deep inside my belly is what I feel. Sitting with you, conversing casually, makes me feel so complete. Doing nothing much, just sitting next to you, I love it; especially when we touch. Slow … Continue reading lovesick.
portal.
My heart beats through my chest, if I opened my mouth you would hear the sound of the drum. Angelic voices pierce the rhythm of my heart; the surging of my circuit did bring my drum to standstill. The way you look at me makes me think, the way you look into me makes me … Continue reading portal.
probability.
Deep breaths, deep breaths; they say psychological pains hurts like razors, like your body cannot differentiate between the physical and the mental. Whatever kind of pain, it hurts all the same. Long have I spent on this journey, long have I spent fighting against all odds; this statistical distribution isn't stacked up in my favour. … Continue reading probability.
snap of the fingers.
With a mere snap of your fingers would the tectonic plates shift; in command of such a powerful force are you. A mere singular decision would remove the inch wide space of separation. Such a small space, such a small place; too small a place for more than two - I don't mind competing for … Continue reading snap of the fingers.
entropy.
A bit abstract, perhaps too forward-a-thought; mind runs like projector reel, light up this theatre, cos' life's but a stage. The sun throws it's rays through the corner pane; throwin' shade. The way the sun dances, it's runs all over the room. Cold are the spaces where the sun doth not shine, like walkin' round, … Continue reading entropy.
