Demerol *experimental*A Poem by hunglikejesuswhat pain must feel like when you have to suffer through it.
you can’t run from pain, it’s a shadow, hurt becomes good. you slip into agony your mind is red and black with lightness. you move back and forth like a monster on fire, no escape, no respite for wary. you feel like the night sky, devoid of light with stab wounds and a big hole off to the side. your thoughts mostly go, nothing comes but sick, hot, hurt you’ll learn to be a slave. focus on it, that’ll help cause the seed is planted and it will grow and blossom like the devil’s backbone. take your time, the hot liquid moves slow and goes deep, your nerves wake up and strip. the root has taken, lay back and focus. you can no longer tell which time you belong, your mind is on leave and has left you alone, nothing but the brain now. get and walk, match the throbbing, like a train gone of course, you cannot. freedom is just a word and now you know it. you go inside looking for some coolness, none to be found here, nothing but that hot liquid moving slowly and still getting deeper. your nails dig long trenches into your imagination, you think. salt is your flavor now, you’ll love it before long. reach out and understand that it will not last forever, nothing does, but hell and you are there. this is what a thousand years feel like in reverse, on pause. surely hell would offer some relief or not, you must remember that is where you are. if you ask louder it may wither. this is a walk through a desert, but in reverse, on pause. this kind of hurt is reserved for the bad, you thought. go ahead grin some, that can help surely or maybe it’ll hurt. if you can see me your to close while my bones are breaking and my flesh is pulled away by tiny life. the inside of me is all over me, this can’t last, not like last time. it’s burning like hot ice. I could grow to love this, I could love time standing still as well. just for a minute let it be cool, you can come back when it’s done. nobody has to know. I can reach down my throat and pull you out, but my mouth can get no wider. my head is red and black on the inside, wonder what it looks like on the wall.
© 2012 hunglikejesus |
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Added on May 25, 2012 Last Updated on May 25, 2012 AuthorhunglikejesusLilburn, GAAboutJust a simple person who's brain has been rewired by my depression. A friend told me that I had a talent for expression and I just started writing and here I be. I am by no means a writer, I have neve.. more..Writing
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