Sunday, June 12, 2011

fuzzy

Walking hurt, step after step
He sits, finally
Hands shaking, Eyes down
Fuzzy shoe outline blending
He raises his hand yet again
He is thirsty


This was inspired by my friend Christopher

1 comment:

  1. Some of us know what it is...

    How I Woke Up

    I need to smack him
    down, take his dope, end his life
    if I can, oh Lord,
    if I can like he
    took mine that last thrust before
    the next nasty rise
    erupted on me
    like vomit, like black light groans
    in the back room mess
    I must now live in
    as I choke down my cold rage
    and am torn apart.

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