s0lac3-f0r_s1lasWhisper

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overdue/ / / i am breathing in the neon of the big city / / the familiar smoke fills my mouth / / and despite my promises to my mother / / i cannot help but cherish it / / someone approaches me and asks my age / / i lie and say nineteen / / and they believe it / / and i wonder if it is the platform boots or the cigarette in between my fingers / / they could just be looking for an excuse to get in my pants / / my body is sacred ground / / accessible to anyone but only unlocked by few / / the doctors will ask me / / have you had *** / / i will answer no / / truthfully / / but secretly wish it was a lie / / for now / / i am overdue for an appointment / / i cannot tell if it is the gaps in my memory that make me think it was years ago / / it might just be / / the neon is messing with my thoughts / / or maybe it is the cigarettes / / either way / / i succumb to the peaceful feeling of numbness / / i feel that maybe / / if i walked right into traffic / / i might ascend to something greater / / something holy / / but right now / / i am nothing but a lost soul / / high on its mother’s cigarettes and wandering alleys of the big city / / maybe that / / in itself / / is holy / / /

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violent delights, violent ends [travis' poem]I wish, some days, that it had been harder. Harder / to dig my claws into his lamb-soft / flesh and rip away the innocence he wore so

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