Drunken ...
I can stumble through brick walls
Vapor and steam I fall between the cracks in the street
Until I wake up in a certain crooked alleyway
Made whole by the presence of blood
Crusting to the side of my head.
I can hardly breathe- the air is too heavy for my lungs
I am fog resting against each unlit windowpane
They put their heads together and whisper
They laugh at me
I feel nothing when i spit blood and teeth in their direction
I claw at the face of exhaustion
Telling myself with each step to keep going
to the cave entrance covered in ivy
it is dark and cold
in it's deepest most ancient cavern
lies a lake with frozen water
A grotto of salt crusted stalactites
Green glowing mushrooms with neon spots
It's quiet almost
I can lie on the bank listening
To water run the rock smooth
Droplets echo as sleep whispers
*Somewhere far above
Two black eyes watch
Dilated completely by darkness
It's feet find purchase among the razor sharp rocks
Taking a moment to drink heavily from a puddle in a dark corner*
It must be my imagination
I feel as if I am watched
...the sound of bare feet on the wet bank
It cannot be, but my eyes
Something is above me
Warm breath on my face... smelling of rotten fish
A smell of death and decay send my mind reeling into the darkest corners of my imagination
I wake with a start
In my bed
I lie back to listen to
My heart beating in my ears
Aug 18, 2012
Aug 18, 2012 at 10:29 PM UTC
Drunken ...
I can stumble through brick walls
Vapor and steam I fall between the cracks in the street
Until I wake up in a certain crooked alleyway
Made whole by the presence of blood
Crusting to the side of my head.
I can hardly breathe- the air is too heavy for my lungs
I am fog resting against each unlit windowpane
They put their heads together and whisper
They laugh at me
I feel nothing when i spit blood and teeth in their direction
I claw at the face of exhaustion
Telling myself with each step to keep going
to the cave entrance covered in ivy
it is dark and cold
in it's deepest most ancient cavern
lies a lake with frozen water
A grotto of salt crusted stalactites
Green glowing mushrooms with neon spots
It's quiet almost
I can lie on the bank listening
To water run the rock smooth
Droplets echo as sleep whispers
*Somewhere far above
Two black eyes watch
Dilated completely by darkness
It's feet find purchase among the razor sharp rocks
Taking a moment to drink heavily from a puddle in a dark corner*
It must be my imagination
I feel as if I am watched
...the sound of bare feet on the wet bank
It cannot be, but my eyes
Something is above me
Warm breath on my face... smelling of rotten fish
A smell of death and decay send my mind reeling into the darkest corners of my imagination
I wake with a start
In my bed
I lie back to listen to
My heart beating in my ears
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