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Aug 2016
Release the bowels and scrub the shame
Metal grit hand-towels
A curious novelty I would come to know as omen
Tacky pink tiles- well noted

Return to see my identity bereaved
Or maybe just my clothes
Strange how they blend in turmoil
No fear for the pistol at my gut, braved in its defense
No fear for thugs I make my company
Even as silent secrets are sent racing across fingertips
I am untouchable

A crowd grows, a debaucherous menagerie
Of Drug abuse and ****** bliss; the **** grows
Time and place erase
Two blue lakes of cotton; now green vines of vinyl
It makes no matter: the **** grows

It grows until memory is no more
Just a fear – what has happened?
And her face is there, the soft skin
The sharp features. The sly smile.
Soft mahogany and Serpent eyes
A beauty you cannot surmise
“You were mine, and I was you.
Taken as I’ll take again”
Then our next meeting, not so far from then
As the scratching record is played again
In headphones meant to control
Resist!
She has my arms, too weak to move
She has my neck, strained to turn
They will take you, and then
YOU will be no more, just a thing
A servant to this beckoning
RESIST!
This battle in your mind, control
As the beat grows louder, that maddening din
So full of fear as you entertain it’s sin
What can you do, once it’s powers in?
HELP! I mean to cry
But nothing with my lips so dry
HELP! I try to choke
All that leaves is wisps of smoke
HELP! And there it is
A whisper, for what the battle did
~ “help” I groan, and finally awake.
Written by
J T Gaut
1.6k
 
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