Still Eating Thorns.

All this time

in between

then and now

been simmering

been building up

rather patiently

brooding silently

been grinding teeth

been stomping feet

been digging holes

with an upward swing

eating poisonous things,

picking thorns from trees,

like a blended sugarcane,

DMT, bonfires and peyote,

cigars and syringes,

sparkling fringes,

champagne, cocaine,

and pornography,

somewhere out there,

fathomed too deep,

Where I hardly sleep,

And maybe it’s killing me,

how my eyes stay closed,

mouth neatly sewn,

over words of my own,

this place is forsaken,

this space can’t be taken,

the loose change shaken,

from the secret pockets,

sewn neatly in my cheeks.

5 thoughts on “Still Eating Thorns.

  1. Been thinking of you lately. Good to see a post. <3

  2. SWMBO told me you had posted again so Hi.

    You know girl I also wake up in the morning into a world of hard pain, usually after a night of demons, so I also know tired, beyond dog tired. My mind too fucked to think straight or even make coffee.

    Only here is the kicker to my tale.
    Not long ago I was asked how the hell I kept going.
    I answered by quoting you.
    “It’s better to die on your feet than on your knees.”

    In case I haven’t said it before, “Thanks for that girl”.

  3. Damn good, straight as said