Sad.

 

I sit, huddled in this corner, and I wait,

I wait for you to say yes [whether you want to or not]

Elliott Smith crackles from my CD player [Between the Bars, again]

Whilst I try to remember whether or not I actually know you today

 

I look at my fingers to the calloused scars

Where my fingers are bitten to the core

Tinged saffron by the cigarettes

Like organs tainted by alcohol

As I washed down tablets

Of arson red and felonious blue

 

I run a finger down the side of my cheek

Trace the outline of twelve days growth

Was it really that long? Must’ve forgotten to kept count

My eyelids feel like lead weights: I wrench them open again

 

I tremor from dereliction of body and mind

Physically depleted, mentally mislaid

I look up at you: mumble my plea once more

Look up to you with coal-rimmed eyes

Bloodshot with crimson-gashed streaks

 

“I used to know you”, you reply, instead of saying

“Yes, I will help you get out of this

We can get through this together”

 

You depart

And leave me alone

Leave me to my

 

Slow

 

Addictive

 

Death.

Reviews

[Amanda Crandall]

Laugh and the world laughs with you, sie and you die alone?
I'm a little curious as to wether you use the bod to highlight what presses you most as you write or or what you want the reader to take with them.

[Impulse]

Wow. Okay first off, nice job with the images you've created and the descriptive words you chose to use- great. This piece hit home with me and made me realize something about one of my own friends. Realizations suck.

i like the elliott smit reference her...good choice
i also like this it creates a picture in my mind.

luff
XxX

[Conversing Empty Words]

Have to say, the very end was the only appeasing part to my eyes. We've both been missing our words lately. They seem to be sidetracked between minds and addictive thoughts between the lines.

[Hedra Helix]

This is the second of yours I read. Nice. Your words come across with speed and intensity like lyrics to punk.