Reply To: Me poetry, you poetry
On 2008.10.24 at 4:11 am manillascissor wrote:
I wrote this in college, about starting to drink and smoke: If only I listened to myself.
I’m walking down this carnival highway. You know, the empty, sticky, flashy, jet-engine aisle…the dirty path traveled by the millions. At first, I am mute. Energy of all wavelengths passes through me, reaching me via distinguished media…vibrations, noises, headlights, flames of yellow and red, beckoning my submission. I am silent. For I have heard of the evil. The fake. The hypocrite. The sinner. Smiling with glittered teeth and eyes of molten steel, he flies to me. With clawed hands open and bat wings spread. I am offered to taste his nectar. The life juice of darkness. And as the quiet moon pulsates onto my head, I take my virgin sip of nothingness. It goes down like a snake crawling into my stomach, it’s body opening and slithering and becoming one with my soul. And now, removal of the beast would surely mean death…for it is a part of me. It is me. And I look behind to see where to go and the heat blasts burn my eyes. The silver lenses see far above, but the blackness comes rushing down. Down, down, down. Crushing and extinguishing the sought after and needed, until the horizontals dominate. A vacuum begins from inside and when I look forward, my snake is just leaving. On to pursue another being. To eat what is his and control what was once mine.