Tuesday, December 30, 2008
The Boy Who Cried Chemicals
There are certain times I remember
That stab me through my stomach,
From the inside to the out.
Cuts it open and all my wicked organs fall out,
Choking and wheezing from the lack of my acid inside.
Splinters from Winter still infect my remaining rib cage.
I kneel beside my chemical spill,
And try to put my pieces in their place like a jigsaw puzzle.
Everything fits like it should,
Like I never thought they would.
Everything except my plastic lungs and cardboard heart.
They aren't welcome back in this town.
Because one is a bullet and one is a gun,
And I'm not sure which is which one.
But the last thing I want to do,
Is bleed and breathe more toxic ink.
My body is my own canvas,
And I'm a waste of paint.
Almost finishing the last chapter of Broken Mirror. Scary. Okay, maybe not so scary for you.. Maybe I just could imagine so well; the pain, the agony. Dang.. Addictions and withdrawals. They just have to go together, don't they?
Ring around the roses
A pack of overdoses
Atissue, atissue,
They all drop dead.
Heh.. But you do know that addictions don't necesarry mean drugs, right? He could be addicted to horse-racing betting, she could be addicted to soap operas, that little infant could be addicted to breastfeeding he keeps wanting more.. Erm.. Yeah.. It's a wee bit dangerous in a way.. I mean, being addicted to something couldn't be a good thing, right? I don't think the addict could even tell the difference between his wants and needs. He'd do anything to get what he needs (or wants), and if there's a dearth in supplies, he'd even dare to beg, saying a little's enough. But how enough is enough? And when he doesn't get what he needs (or wants), he'd then curl up into a round flimsy ball, with blue bubbles coming from his mouth and he'll rot till he sees the light... Okay crap, I lied. Maybe he'll just sit hugging his knees, stare into complete nothingness, and bite his fingernails.. And maybe shiver a little bit. Yeah. Oh well.. Hmmm.. Why are we talking about addictions again?
Note To Self:
a tale to be told
a twist unfolds
stranger than fiction
an absurd reality..
a prince
(that ugly frog prince)
waiting impatiently for his one true love first kiss..
..and suddenly got abducted by the dark side.
a young darth vader was borned.
the end.
ps: i'm really trying to lose myself, just forget about my issues, so i could sleep tonight. so mind the absurdity in this post. merci.
reminisced;
- 10:47 PM
