Friday, April 1, 2011

mystery pills

thoughts fly
when I'm feeling like death
there is no desire left
but cold lonesome
shattering content illusions
doused headphones
pierced corneas
ecstatic sickness prickling my fevered body
and swimming up my spine
there is nothing to do
but lay down
nowhere but back
worried that rental thugs
realizing I'm on drugs and kicking me out
on the street
I feel dead
beat down by some mechanical drumstick
and I have no idea where I am

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