"No Fun — for anybody. 67. You are getting Greedy. Act your old age. Relax — This won't hurt." - hunter thompson
but it did, Hunter.
and the silence grows fuller
like a plane to Nicaragua,
or the sudden surge of quiet
after two bodies have already
fallen from the vertigo
of pleasure.
treading the barbed line of
living as the wind acrobats
and mangles itself into
a dagger - a sharpest edge
of memory's telling:
i am endlessly searching
for something i cannot name.
scouring for lost things
in the pocket of this
realm. tentativeness
a tenfold - sink or swim.
mind dwindles somewhere caught
like a flailing fly in the lair
of a relentless tarantula.
furiously this night grows
insectile in its habiliment,
buzzing and drilling against the
walls pounding on them like
a man would, angered and hostile
behind narrowing faces of wall
in steep confinement.
tiptoeing
through shards
fire
song
light
no light
silence.
this won't hurt
under secret strobe and
cigarette haze
this won't hurt
underneath the parasol of
influence as the cosmos rains
weighing down eyelids close to
pavement
this won't hurt
this won't hurt
won't hurt this,
won't this hurt
Sep 27, 2015
Sep 27, 2015 at 10:26 PM UTC
"No Fun — for anybody. 67. You are getting Greedy. Act your old age. Relax — This won't hurt." - hunter thompson
but it did, Hunter.
and the silence grows fuller
like a plane to Nicaragua,
or the sudden surge of quiet
after two bodies have already
fallen from the vertigo
of pleasure.
treading the barbed line of
living as the wind acrobats
and mangles itself into
a dagger - a sharpest edge
of memory's telling:
i am endlessly searching
for something i cannot name.
scouring for lost things
in the pocket of this
realm. tentativeness
a tenfold - sink or swim.
mind dwindles somewhere caught
like a flailing fly in the lair
of a relentless tarantula.
furiously this night grows
insectile in its habiliment,
buzzing and drilling against the
walls pounding on them like
a man would, angered and hostile
behind narrowing faces of wall
in steep confinement.
tiptoeing
through shards
fire
song
light
no light
silence.
this won't hurt
under secret strobe and
cigarette haze
this won't hurt
underneath the parasol of
influence as the cosmos rains
weighing down eyelids close to
pavement
this won't hurt
this won't hurt
won't hurt this,
won't this hurt
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