Whatever

Blue Poet

We used to dream now we drink

We used to float now we sink

Deeper than we wanted to

Deeper than anyone thought possible

We are catatonic but hysterical

About it

 

 

Just Look

Look what you did

And what i have done

And what we have done to each other

It could be much worse but also far better

This is me not forgeting to apply a pressure

To the wound

 

 

The alternative is bleeding out

Right here on the sidewalk

Where the outline of my body in chalk

Would be the only thing left

 

 

Let's just say that i am safe from identity theft

For you cannot be robbed of what you don't have

 

 

Quite sad innit

So fucking sad

The fact it doesn't even make me mad

Anymore

 

 

Soulless body washed on lonely shore

With very real keys to the imaginary door

Washed there by the waves of melancholy

By the ocean of dispair

 

 

Life is a brutal game and hardly fair

Yet it holds such beauty

Promise of which is the very definition of cruelty

And from you i expect no mercy

Because you will get none from me

And that's fine

That's how it supposed to be

 

 

I am tired of building walls just to see if someone is able to tear them down

Because they never are

And those who would be don't want to

And now what am i supposed to do?

 

 

Behind all those walls alone

Chewing my feelings turned to stone

Dissecting them to the bone

When i close my eyes i can still hear the way she used to moan

 

 

 

Such magical sound of physical craveing

Mist of mysticism abounding

So much more than just two people screwing

 

 

Or maybe that's all it was

She traped me in a videorecording on which she hit the pause

And even that is long gone

Just water undre the bridge

 

 

Across which

Sprints pale horse and the name of the rider on his ridge

Is Death

 

 

I wave onto him with each cigarette

But still i don't know what i would die for

 

 

Do you?

Or are you lost too?

Maybe we could be lost together

Or not

 

 

Whatever

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  • Author: //Blue Poet// (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: June 30th, 2021 03:45
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 30
  • User favorite of this poem: rebmasters.
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Comments1

  • germanamericanchurch

    Very nice the, dream to now we drink is a fitting to a lost future,
    Now where does the psychedelic sacrament fit in ? Mom would be proud ? Or Granpa shaman too?



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