bent, words

i understand why junkies would rather risk overdose and death than quit the junk

why smokers always return

adrenaline addicts jumping out planes

it makes sense

because dreaming about something and waking up with the feel of it in your skin

and then feeling it fade away

all that is left is the intoxicating need for more

five more minutes

i wasn’t aware i had a crush on this girl back in school

it was that confusing time between obsession with the opposite sex and abject dismissal

and i had a dream she and i were at the mall and gunman showed up

he opened fire and i pushed her out the way and took the bullet for her

i woke up and it was vivid

i still remember every detail

went to school and saw her and my heart stopped

the idea of taking a bullet made sense suddenly

an epiphany of sorts

also forever put me in the hopeless romantic category of life

i was a solitary kid

read too much

lived too little

and formed these ideals of what different emotions should be based more on literary interpretation than actual investment

love was perfection and made everything okay

a balm for the ills of the planet

rage was all encompassing

a scourge that would not rest until it was satisfied

comeuppance must be had

in reality that was wrong

love is a prickly cactus that injures if clung too tightly to

rage is vent that releases pressure instead of the machine exploding

happiness is fleeting like a fox

but when you figure out your fix

attain that moment where you can breathe freely for a brief interlude in the non-stop cataclysm

be it drugs or death defying or coffee or cigarettes

a totem

the dream catcher over the bed

that impossible to attain romanticized image of love that is farther than it appears

once you taste that

the dream is never enough to satiate

the itch begins

spiders on your skin


but you beat it

you are stronger than you give yourself credit for

but you always taste it

remember that velvety feel along your skin

waking up on a bed draped with velour

goddess knows i fought my demons

still do

except the ones i let back in for a spell


but i do tire of waking up

and feeling that longing

the tug

the urge to make some mistakes

break an arm or a heart on the way

so i get it



retox your system

there is a reason the highways have curves and hills and they didn’t just make everything straight lines

maybe we’ll bump into each other

bellied up to the bar

first round’s on me

maybe once we lower our inhibitions a tad

we can finally be honest

about our hungers

our needs

what we wake up tasting but never let ourselves have

go on a bender in vegas

break some eggs and use the omelette as a hot tub

if you want

champagne is on ice, the bubbler is packed and they are giving out hypodermic needles at the clinic

grab some condoms while you’re there

before the government shuts the whole party down

we’ll dry out next week

or the week after

we deserve this

One thought on “bent, words

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