/|\1
He is crying so hard that his eyes, his walls, can't move. Tears are dry and hot in that heart behind his cramping brow. Breath leaves, frightening blood still, as steam hisses from his vision, condenses like poison, sinks into the muscles of the jaw and vines down along his windpipe, its burning chemicals melting into the sinew of clavicles and down into what muscle is left on his chest. That tight, gripping weakness plunges towards hands. 2
Believing that he will never sleep again, his body reluctantly but steadily connects to the sorrow, that anger at himself, his failure to breathe and a desperate need to reach out for destruction.3
Bodies are all that drag him across a living path, now. His eyes struggle towards pouncing onto the lascivious beds of hope, feet wish to bounce all mattresses into cracking their box spring frames, that devil of youth stolen for games of grey flesh, left rotting its own stomach...as if it is not his...it is not mine.4
My gut is torn in the fractures of stress, sloth, steaks...from trying to turn words to whores. I am a pimp, kicked...back onto the sidewalk by a gutter of pity, barely able to dance for drinks. And all may see the failure now, just as once all saw some clever promise. A series failing in the spring, I only wait for March and October, never enjoying the heat or dance of winter's gifts, that dwindling towards rebirth. 5
I am lost in his world, now, unable to care for this twin but unable to sign away his lust. 6
Another deadline passes.7
/|\8
Author notes
I really felt like crying for most of this day. There is always enough joy to keep you going but not necessarily enough to keep you giving...or looking for anything but a quick fix.
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Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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hands you those much needed red white and blue tassles to hang from the handle bars...
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thanks for stopping by
and with a would be stipper story no less
i feel a sudden need to get on my bike and ride -
10 ben and jerries tubs
sniffles
I hate those days ... those shitty filled days
I remember only having change for gas in college... and I thought.. I should go strip.. those girls always had money...
but I never could.... and ended up riding my bike...
Not until years later do you see you strength
because at the time we feel so weak and pathetic
xo -
y danged springy jointed rapscallion
i don t know why i haven t embraced leonard c
it s probably too dangerous for you to swing me by his cd
may keep it
but i think you should
Luck huh
sounds like another line
all mostly dead
except
when sprung upon one sudden like
it is nice to know what you know
and better to share
thanks
Edited on Nov 04, 4:11 because ''. -
Leonard Cohen - Tower Of Song
Well my friends are gone and my hair is grey
I ache in the places where I used to play
And I'm crazy for love but I'm not coming on
I'm just paying my rent every day
Oh in the Tower of Song
I said to Hank Williams: how lonely does it get?
Hank Williams hasn't answered yet
But I hear him coughing all night long
A hundred floors above me
In the Tower of Song...
Reminds me of that song, which I relate to somehow even though my joints are still springy. Everybody gets to feel it eventually, darlin, and they still call it Luck.
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