A Midnight, Flame-Thrown Cigarette

humor me, this is completely accurate

The midnight, flame-thrown cigarette

Breathes all the air

That pulls my hair to stretch my neck to the moons pallid light

Feeling pain in my bottom teeth

That bleed from black cats and broken eyes

And drip to the heart beats pulsing sea

Trickling down white endless sand and shuffling skies

I wish I could be the giver of sight

But im tired of this incomprehensible universal game

Of God giveth and taketh away

I need two cigarettes to think about sleep

And another to hand my soul to the night

to stop the agonizing trip of reality

but I stay awake at nights im tired

Because I remember the days I longed for now

A cynical spinster lost at a sea of optimistic god fearing children

Grasping for the deads door

Locked at the bolt and rusted to flake away

Floating in a doldrum wonderland of gambling men and their human trophies

A horse kicking through the gate ten seconds too late the guns cocked

Stop

Stop stop

Take my hand

Lead me to the future of truly black pencils and paper made of cloth

My time holds no bounds of days or nights

I reach for suns that I see as they were an exasecond ago

Probably half dead in bottle wearing a needle for a sweater

Like most of my heroes by now

Every night, the darkness claims the reflection I sweat on the marble slab

A mirror shattered by white dust and piercing black eyes

Searching for something they cant even fathom to see

From inside this glass of scotch

 

 

 

Author's Note

please review

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

I like the poem. My kind of energy and place you took me to.
"I need two cigarettes to think about sleep
And another to hand my soul to the night
to stop the agonizing trip of reality
but I stay awake at nights im tired"
I like the above lines. Feel real. Thank you for sharing the excellent poetry.
Coyote