i brace
the impact of this death-collision,
my eyes search the
emptiness of sleep
yet there is a hanging invitation.
a counterplot to my figure's
incessant clamor.
to dance upon the
slenderness of this road altogether,
lighting our cigarettes,
mapping out our deaths
painstakingly.
we know not its macabre,
we pain not over
its toxicities,
takes it closer
to lips and then purses
a blow of haze curling over
our brows,
we cannot contain its ballistic call,
its ruthless honesty knows
no stoppage.
we call death like
a finite answer to a fold of
questions!
Sep 18, 2015
Sep 18, 2015 at 6:15 AM UTC
i brace
the impact of this death-collision,
my eyes search the
emptiness of sleep
yet there is a hanging invitation.
a counterplot to my figure's
incessant clamor.
to dance upon the
slenderness of this road altogether,
lighting our cigarettes,
mapping out our deaths
painstakingly.
we know not its macabre,
we pain not over
its toxicities,
takes it closer
to lips and then purses
a blow of haze curling over
our brows,
we cannot contain its ballistic call,
its ruthless honesty knows
no stoppage.
we call death like
a finite answer to a fold of
questions!
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