St.C pt.5

April 23, 2007 at 12:39 pm (poem)

grip and gin

feeling the sticky wood under my head
everything is so clear to me
altough I can’t see a thing
blurred and distorted
glass spread on the floor
fallen body of a liquid killer
haze and heat
everything is
past joy and has long moved to guilt
a broken vow
a broken promise
and what’s left for me then
but your hate and my own
failure lying on a table
tossed myself aside
looked for confort outside arms and words
jumped and drowned for now
help me
I failed in front of both
you and me so
is your hand still there?

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