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Jan 2015
Sometimes it hits me
Like one to many shots of whiskey after a late night binge the taste of tequila and regret stuck to the back of the throat like some nasty film
Vaguely reminiscent overly ripe peachs
When the world goes dark and all you can do is hope to wake to something better
The kind of sudden drag that seems to smack you so hard you drool
Like the brain can't comprehend what it's thinking, feeling, or even what ******* planet it's on anymore
Some sick lingering psychotic paranoia that can only be dreamt up from the bowels ofΒ Β some deranged lunatic
The kind of thoughts that would if spoken give you one straight ticket to crazy town
Where the good ones fall into the sanctity of drugs and the wack jobs play in their bird cages tweeting insanity
Those moments when the brain goes quiet like some old tv buzzing it's electric static
Hmmmm hmmmm hmmmmmmm
Rhythmically ringing the fuzzing sharp inhalation
Cotten wrapping the ears, eyes at the tantamount and hands on auto
The brain checks into where the person checks out and it takes control
Those 80 mile hour thoughts where driving off the road and not stopping meets the white knuckle grip
I could do it there is no stopping the lurching slow tilting wheel
Nor is there anyone to breath me back into control
To take the knife off the steady sturdy rhythm, to stop the ****** up intermingling of sickend morbidity
It is unlike the calm and even character clicking past the blinking static
Blipping from the slack jawed intensity like some victim of PTSD
Still teeming in the aftermath like some sick puppy waiting on the ride to end
It's terrible and equally ****** up this abstracting feeling is like never waking up
Strung out on some mental drug causing the heart tripping hazard of frequency
Like falling in a dream only to realize you had never slept
Emily Jones
Written by
Emily Jones  25/Cis/NORTH LITTLE ROCK AR
(25/Cis/NORTH LITTLE ROCK AR)   
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