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Apr 2010
the drunkard crawls from an infinite sea of sadness,
their screams echo
                                                                                        into an enormous black sky,
upon finding their sun
                                             which was once an incessant ***** red,
now a cold mass of midnight blue,
abandoning its worshipper
to revel in darkness,
                 to freeze from a deathly chill of loneliness,
                                  to melt from the nights' stinging raindrops of reality.
but the drunkards,
and only the drunkards,
are secretly admitted
                                into the hollow asylum of the traitorous mind,
              where some imagined eerie light
                                            bathes the shadows,
              where they feel the solitude enveloping their bodies
                                                                                                  with an alien warmth,
              where the raindrops intoxicate their insides
                                                                                like thick, sugary syrup;
a place where they
willingly drug themselves
into an ignorant stupor,
                                                                                painting translucent
                                                                                                   dreams of yesterday
upon the undersides of their eyelids,
                               and seeing them
                                             as the art of the future.
solely possessing the key
to the invisible shackles
that chain them
to equally invisible walls,
                they lie back in relief,
                                                               upon silken feather dust pillows,
comforted by a styrofoam fortress,
while blissfully wasting away
                                                                                                                 in their drunken
                                                                                    narcotic haven.
1998
Written by
Helen McKean  41/Cisgender Female/Philadelphia, PA
(41/Cisgender Female/Philadelphia, PA)   
1.6k
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