Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nikita May 2015
In another life I swear I would've been a chronic drug addict
I don't do drugs but if it weren't for my supportive best friend and my fear of needle, pills and hallucinations I'd be so hooked
strait crazy

saintly mania raving.

new age jainist phasers
sang they praises
like
'hey mr bojangles,
go mangle up the angle,
shake shake shake the frame
& they'll thank you later.'

...sorry not today.

I'm feeling under the
earthquake weather.
wallowing wonder
following the devil
thru the desert
on great endeavors
to make it rain feathers
that sound like thunder.

famous as ever
nameless as heaven

to say the least
I'm slaying beasts that
came from me
in the first place.
this is lovehate.
lovehate lovehate.
& it's useless.

just lemme set the mood.

it's stupid
brutish beauty
mooing truly bluesy
marks & bruises
infused with martian
harmony incarnate,
caramelized carnage
set to soothing violent music.

broke record store cliché
faded to frustration feeding
a creaturely need for creation
& hellish lust for selfdestruction.

-nothing special-
just an absolute mess who
dilute the stress through allusion
allegory alliteration
hallucination delusion

***** it's a celebration.

tell the rest those losers
that got left I'm doing my best
even though I'm pretty upset
with how it's all panning out.

oh well I guess.
Methodology^3
Megha Balooni Jan 2015
Walking through the rainy streets.
Puddles filled with muddy waters
Waters that don't reflect anything but happiness
Setting out paper boats again
Dancing like no one watched
And frankly, we didn't even care
And the smokes and the mist
Galaxies formed somewhere here on Earth today.
The Whisper Jul 2014
As I sigh, I pat my pockets
And search for an old friend.
Seeking comfort and consolation
In someone I know all too well.

A pure white cigarette with a cotton filter.
I place it in my mouth and light the end.
A familiar greeting. A firm handshake.
Then we begin our conversation.

I take a long drag from my dear old friend.
He pats me on the back.
He tells me that I will be okay.
He gives me the strength that I lack.

Another long puff with a cough at the end.
Five minutes of my life that I'll never get back.
Five minutes of life taken from me,
In exchange for a glimmer of solace.

Holding my friend, I take a deep breath.
Inhaling the oxygen I need.
Then I fill my lungs with smoke.
As I feel the comfort slipping away.

My friend is gone; my friend is done.
I flick his remains away.
Although he is gone, he will soon return.
Helping my body decay.

My solace has disappeared.
I'm back to the way that I felt before.
My former feelings, now magnified.
Leaving me unsatisfied.
"A cigarette is the perfect type of a perfect pleasure. It is exquisite, and it leaves one unsatisfied. What more can one want?" - Oscar Wilde

— The End —