Flying In Gutters

 

 

Lying here in sloth like laziness,

20 days go by

without a shower- and-

I feel my teeth rotting out of my face.

One by one they fall as I sit

I shrug staring into cooking shows.

The product of a chemical induced

nothingness.

 

Gone are the pretty face and pretty smells

pieces of flesh fall,

keeping my cat alive

she licks her lips in wait.

Use your last wish

a voice whispers,

instead I close my eyes

and plug my ears;

preferring to fade

taking the easy way out.

I can see the rainbow! I cry

but your ears, to the gutter

fill with water

vomit choked

oesophagus

and the needle,

clutched tightly

in palm.

Even in death

you still can’t let go.

 

Reviews

[Legion]

Wow. Deeply disturbing and wonderfully visual. A litany of a lethargic legacy. Well done.

[Ricohard]

Yeah...what Penrose said!
It was like someone trying to escape a rotating cog, and finding it utterly hopeless.
Thoroughly enjoying.
Freakin loved this "Gone are the pretty face and pretty smells". Great

[Matt Penrose]

I enjoyed the solemn feeling in this piece; the flowing rhythm, the contemplative arrangment of words, the nicely tied off ending. Thank you for sharing.