He can taste the burn
in his dreams.
Slowly sliding down
his gullet,
adams apple juts
out like one of those
whack-a-weasels at
the carnival.
He swallows hard and
eyes open, awareness
seeps in slower than the vodka
would take to flow through
eager veins.
“Breath, just breath”
He looks into himself,
steadying the beast,
It’s in his belly today.
It’s hungry and a 90
proof breakfast would prove
potent enough to turn growls
into purrs.
A weapon of mass destruction,
invading his body system like tactical
terrorists on a mission;
A cognitive battle ground, misfiring of receptors,
Dopamine bullets bellow the beast.
Standing firm on melting ground,
he steadies himself today, tomorrow,
and surely the next.
He possesses this beast
though internally, it may seem contrary.
He owns his detriment with humbling
surrender.
In a list
A contest entry
- Don't Be Afraid To Write, Poems and Prose, and more... by badnovocaine.
900 points, ended February 20, 20 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Addictions by LOVELYmurder.
600 points, ended March 24, 41 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
It’s hungry and a 90
proof breakfast would prove
potent enough to turn growls
into purrs.
My favorite stanza of the whole poem. I liked the fact that you used varied vocabulary, like gullet instead of throat. I loved your descriptions overall, referring booze to a WMD was great. Good job and good luck in the contest. -
wow, this write is simply amazing. i especially liked the part where you talked about the 90 proof breakfast. i found it both sad and humorous at the same time. great write, never stop.
Rob -
Wow! The title nabbed me right off, and then the rest was raw and riveting. Awesome job!
-
Wow surprised nobody commented on this one. This is really good, some of this made me smile and while some of this made me feel slightly sad for the character you were writing about, but altogether this was well written and I loved your metaphors.
A weapon of mass destruction,
invading his body system like tactical
terrorists on a mission;
I loved that part above, another one of those great metaphors that makes me wonder.
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