Saturday, July 26, 2014

hole in the dipper

So many stories swirling in my writers pail.

held back by a gelatinous placenta of restricting numbness

a shield tempered by the dull thick blanket of medication laying on my mind.

Stab at it with a knife, unable to pierce it...

chemically induced sanity.

Madness has a sound, a rhythm, a pulse...a beat.

muted by the medication

like a junkie I crave the pull of the night

To drink the screams

...and vomit out the pain.

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