Wednesday, February 1, 2012

...and the smoke drifted so lazily

And the Smoke drifted so Lazily

I bang my head bloodily against the wall.
Decisive, and oriented again.
Flesh flies with authority,
The pain rips and freshens disdained reality.
It’s constitution, ethics,
And responsibility,
Warped through agony,
And self-disapproving likeness.
The elder side of me destroyed,
Versus experience, 
Just another, vengeful, hating one.

There is no escaping…
As smoke drifts and falls,
I soon do follow.

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