I will stumble foolish into the valley of dust
where all my skin and bones will rust
I will meet a fortune teller there
with her own violet eyes
entangled in her hair
Speak to me, o wise one
tell me what it is I have done
abandon your Ouija, o cosmic peasant
where you see into the souls of demons future-
past and present
and scream through your teeth
scratch my red right hand
let your words roll out
like the exorcism of a marching band
tell me my life, o darling boho *****
satisfy my callous and infinite itch
Feb 15, 2014
Feb 15, 2014 at 6:49 PM UTC
I will stumble foolish into the valley of dust
where all my skin and bones will rust
I will meet a fortune teller there
with her own violet eyes
entangled in her hair
Speak to me, o wise one
tell me what it is I have done
abandon your Ouija, o cosmic peasant
where you see into the souls of demons future-
past and present
and scream through your teeth
scratch my red right hand
let your words roll out
like the exorcism of a marching band
tell me my life, o darling boho *****
satisfy my callous and infinite itch
Something I found in my journal that I wrote after consuming too many pills. I forgot about it for a while.
© Erin Mason 2014
