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Oct 2014
sparks light the darkness
for precious quarters of seconds.

the lonely lighter flame reaches its arms towards the cloudless sky.

lifting the stained glass sacrament to your lips -

inhale.
inhale.
inhale.

exhale, your worries and a small part of your soul.

your mind enters the fog, running from something.

neon lights oscillate like angered ancient specters
bathing us in an eerie glow.

hide the small square under your tongue. the familiar bitter taste fills your mouth. you've been here before.

"expand your consciousness", they say.

your heartbeat doubles, and your mind enters the fog, running from something.

pop the tab unscrew the cork-
pour.
pour.
pour.

gulp it down, soak it up like a desert floor that has never seen a drop of rain,

and chase it with a rainbow of pretty pills.

your body becomes numb, and your mind enters the fog, running from something.

from the dawn of time til our deaths we humans have been running from something.
running from our fears,
running from our thoughts,
running from our memories,
running from ourselves.

we chase the void so ravenously we fail to notice the voids opening up inside of each and every one of us.

there is something to be said about the quality of our reality if we are constantly seeking mind altering substances to escape it.
Raymond Johnson
Written by
Raymond Johnson  Maryland
(Maryland)   
839
 
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