Friday 3/07/2008 12:31:00 AM

So many drugs from which to choose. I can't decide.

Her thicker ear tried to hear. The doubtful discussions of gods on steroids looking for heavier weights to lift. Or at least, that's what she thought they said. Her good eye focused on seeing. Her weak one trying to look to like it wasn't. Hunters with harps strumming the kill.

Her t-shirt was hungry and her pants were too busy throwing up to notice that she wasn't wearing either of them.

Anymore.

Sex like sticky notes filling her free spaces. Bald daggers stab at the missing hairs on her skin. The tumor of hope growing larger. Her spine shrinking in comparison.

The truth. A drunken surgeon. Cutting madly to save her.

1 comments:
orgasmik said...

Really very interesting - as they all are ; coming out from the heart of my sad alcholic poet.
thanks.



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