PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I once did acid, and it bent me out of shape.  Now cool, collective

and placid, I re-examine the bullshit mirror of everything I tried.

And it reflects what I knew to expect.

I'd been staring at myself for like fifteen fucking minutes,

before I reached to flush the toilet

and grab the cup with nothing in it.



        where the hell was I going anyway?



I didn't quite know but

I must've hit a thousand things on my stumble out.

So when you see me walking by,

give me a humble shout

and I will cry

at how you can stay so fucking still

while I'm constantly on the move.

Legs perpetually propelling me for the sake of

covering ground...



And I'll have tiny conversations in my head

about how so-and-so is dead

and how it rained the first time I bled.

I swear, I run into the most interesting characters

who share the stuff they find so exquisitely.

But in the end,

I'm still a conversation artist

talking to myself...