Of…

Image

You gaze through glazed eyes

At the talking head within a talking box.

Your brain simmering

Inside its capacious skull.

 

You awake in dreams

Putting on your pants,

Brushing your teeth,

Defiling the toilet with your

Innumerable expulsions

 

And slowly you feel

A twinge of irritation

Thinking how life

Couldn’t get any duller.

 

Is this what hell truly is?

In a fit of rage you scream,

“Damn this prison!”

 

Fists clenched, fighting to fight

Something,

Anything but this.

Blood sinks deeper into your everything,

Beating, bashing, throbbing, thrashing,

Pounding your helpless ears.

And as the crimson waves subside

You hear it

What?

It.

That dislocated drone

Of a sleepless city.

A myriad of glowing eyes

Gleaming infernal

Below a polluted sea.

You smell its putrid breath sweltering,

Fuming from its numberless

Cracks and crevices

That twist its ugly frame.

 

You can even taste

The dampness on your tongue

The damp taste of…what though?

Sex?

No

Death?

No, something deeper.

Corruption?

Close but no.

What then?!

What?!

 

You can’t put your finger on it,

But you can feel it,

You can sense it.

That bittersweet taste of…

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s