lost moments
days burn the weeks
smoke pours
from stained fingers
between yellow teeth
too fat, now waste,
sitting in waste,
urine newspaper
not a cat, is that me
or something on my shoe?
I am barefoot.
No way out
dawn is gray
it is night again
she was beautiful
I can almost hear
her voice
kisses turned to
peanut butter
straight from a jar
the lid is a good ashtray.
Where did this whisky come from
we only shared one joint
how can all of this dirt
pile up when there
is no one here...ever...
but me and someone
else, in another room
or snoring on the bed.
I smell their thick
sweat hardened socks.
Only one eye can focus
at a time and then only
for a moment. I might
die here..
no one would care.
the paper burns black
heat against my lips
a single blister in time.
A contest entry
- Addiction by poetryality.
900 points, ended November 14, 2008, 24 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments welcome
Comments
-
aaah interesting write, hey its cool your from Ohio, I was born there,.... good luck with the contest..... Where did this whisky come from?
mmm at least its legal! and well the herb, he grew it too, nothing a matter with mother nature..... in my book...... peace.
One room flat
lost moments
a single blister in time........ mmmmmmm very good!
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