poem written at 2am midway through a research chemical trip that lasted 12 hours
Fool me?
Maybe a few times
It's hard to tell
Mouthing out
The words in the back of your head
It's nice
But I tend to leave bits and pieces
Of me
Everywhere I go
Chewed fingernail
Tearing on rusted dull strings
A little bloody
Stay flagrant
Don't burn the house down
Teabags
Half-stewed
Desert a 50 from your mould
To charge that light on at night
Cause you can and can't sleep without it
That kind of blue which sits
At the back of your eyes
It's reassuring to know it's there
But when it is you don't want to leave
Holding your attention
A little longer than necessary
Lingering
How many library books
Beneath the bed
-Tsnndoku! at least they're automatic renewals now
Freudian sniff?
I have a cold, not paranoia
empire worries me
the faces of fat cats
But it feels so good when I let them in
And then I'll leave ever so quietly
A lady of the 24hour night
In these stairwells-
lay a foetal pause in private company
vulnerable from above as down below
Winter brought us together
under pressure of platforms
It tasted bitter but everyone says it's tasteless
Barricaded between the violet night and fine dining, you show me the walls it shimmers as you shimmers
me timbers
back up to me shoulders
Falling in an orbit, mind you
You should've looped back by now
But the faces in the dim energy bulbs
Flicker with tinged green
worms beneath the skin