there comes a time
when the smoke rolling from cigarettes
is remindful of some of the strangest dreams
and late night wickedness
that visited
over the years
it comes
from a lack of sleep
and the awful scent of melting steel
though weird
it travels along in everyday life
constantly rewinds
then plays
the thoughts once had
back to me
of a bed with names on it
with fingers on the home row
scared
by the sound of chirping outside the window
I look and find that the night has past by
and for nine fruitless hours
with stentorian music in the
background
something had me pounding
knuckles and writing random hell fire
I'm in no position to question my own actions
my brow tells stories of people and places
I'd rather not advise you visit
it's nothing new
that I've rattled my brain with hard drugs and fast times
they are both my scars and beauty marks
both earned in great detail
and someday it's a given I will die
so lay me out on the autopsy table
find stories
wrapped tightly
around my bones
heard while swimming
through the thunder of riverbeds
that played a tomb to unforgettable grace
that which brings me
from my sleep
and back to the
dread of staring back at you
what you call fate
is far from what we read deep within the pages
that were left behind after the great release
what you call a tongue
is nothing more than a
diving board
high above the dregs of a
derelict wasteland
pay the tongue for its time
send it on its way
back down the throat
to another shit eating grin
Honorable winner
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