(un)titled filth

the millipede ran down my spine as i sat sipping whiskey from a styrofoam cup staring at the world through booze tinted malaise in boxers and a yellow sweat stained shirt from the balcony of another dead end realization

the dripping water from the faucet played an echoed hellfire orchestra on an already damaged head as another moth flew into the flame of unrequited love with a sharp sizzle of hungover longing in the sullen summer night

an oily film covers everything like the sheen of sweat on my upper lips buried beneath three days growth and fungal sprouts as if mushrooms are about to spring forth from the last unblocked pore on a greasy faceless mask

filth clutters the cave of crisis as i try and circumagitate the empty bottles of good times past with the drunken efficiency of laying the blame on any warm body that dares cross the threshold of this broken down cathedral

a low growl escapes the back of my throat when i think about how someone that was once a friend is now another bleeding gaping wound in the target tattooed on my back like a welcome mat covered in the days remains

with a nimble grace unsuspected the killipede gets popped between grinding molars to pop with a fetid spray of guts and anguish masticated in masturbatory fashion before being swallowed with another shot of sorrow

One thought on “(un)titled filth

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s