A morsel of bitter optimism rushed into the thirsty cavity
The rush. I blush. The burn. I yearn. The tear. It's all so clear.
Only the appetizer to the upcoming self-indulgence.
Perfectionistic stripes of sliced n' diced diamonds,
Drained from my reflection with just one sniff.
Like harsh cinnamon, it burns to be this pure.
A small sigh escapes my lips: an exhalation of pleasure
Like those of a woman after making love.
Heart pounding along with spastic techno bass beats;
Body moving so quickly: needing to fulfill each and every urge.
The burning comes back to haunt, sparklers melted by now.
Readjusted, now an acrid taste in the corners you just cant reach.
Chewing gum intensely, compressing it between jaws with such force,
Sit down for thirty minutes and nine hours go by.
& Reality comes back, but a much more cynical reality,
Much too melancholy, Much too sober to sit tight,
Now that theres worthy alternatives.
When what I see in the corner of my eyes begin to disappear,
I need some ice to cool me down; some glass to see clearly.
you see how the more sober I get, the more it sucks? It's all about being on the same level.