Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
There is a beer can bobbing on the horizon. It poisons the sea; La Cerveza Valdez, an opposable thumb to flip the swtich. I think being human is an artwork. Pierce me, flay my arms in tribal shapes, kiss the rag of religion, break your soles for the Hajj. Let's overpopulate the party, trading red for blue in an endless procession of masks. Let's straitjacket our sanity, and document our depressions in late-night emails, and early morning black coffee. I lost my mind when I turned sober, remembering what it means to forget. There is a hospital bed in the future. But there are pills I can take for that.
0
Jul 21, 2014
Jul 21, 2014 at 7:42 AM UTC
Citalopram
There is a beer can bobbing on the horizon. It poisons the sea; La Cerveza Valdez, an opposable thumb to flip the swtich. I think being human is an artwork. Pierce me, flay my arms in tribal shapes, kiss the rag of religion, break your soles for the Hajj. Let's overpopulate the party, trading red for blue in an endless procession of masks. Let's straitjacket our sanity, and document our depressions in late-night emails, and early morning black coffee. I lost my mind when I turned sober, remembering what it means to forget. There is a hospital bed in the future. But there are pills I can take for that.
c
Edward-Coles
Written by
26/M/English
Jul 21, 2014
Jul 21, 2014 at 7:42 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem