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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1622918-Afternoon-Drugs
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by Samuel Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Poetry · Biographical · #1622918
My time spent living with my family, quite recently.
Laying on the bed, just waiting, for something?
No, not really.
With an enemy folded upon the stairwell I march down,
Ill hammer nails in to this intruder, this malignant swine.
They are everywhere here, demons in cheap Hessian,
Mould and rust filled cavities,
Then the apples and sullen fruit drop onto the kitchen floor,
Awoken eyes to a tapestry hung upon the wall,
They melt under sunlight, rich and dewy.
And all tonight brings is another placement, a psychic endeavour.
Oh wont they just rot and leave this place, leave me alone.
The morning breaks, I am sucked back into the nightmare,
Beneath the floorboards ravaged souls are milking all.
Tearing at their souls like idiots.
So what was, is again.
Pacing in the cell.
Could you not expect anything damper?
Ill transcend, ill forward the march, the necessity,
And go again striking forth at the mind
Of the poor animal, stricken beast.
Again in this, how much more is to take?
Mumbles and groans, cried and moaned,
So I drove for miles, for days to get this
Sour wretch from my mind,
It took forever to stand still,
To crush another watered pill.
Id been here in this spot for my whole life,
Spitting into the breeze,
Looking back at nothing.
Yet staring with warmed eyes like an innocent,
Pure and soaking,
Fingers on the sides of the glass bath.
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