i'm welcoming you to shadowland
because no one else is going to. fear is the prerequisite to many things, but mostly honesty and exposure. enjoy the stay.
Electrical cords tied around her insides. Ribs to throats. Tube breathing oxygen. Cold white lies, cold white walls surround the hospital bed. To be on a first name basis with relapse. They wave her goodbye, but its more like a see you later. The tile floors and locked doors know this. One (last) sip empties the bottle. (hiding problems with another) Unction on a wet linoleum floor. And the broken television screen watches her slip back into routine. Bruises can’t get any deeper but there is definetly depth (in terms of darkness and severity). Oil spill fire across yellow skies in Sitka. Smothering thoughts, suffocating veins (trails back to the old days.) land map to a breakdown. No one can hear it but she’s asking for directions, the volume on the tv’s going up faster then they gave up on her. And this night seems to contain more comfort then chaos when she hears the taxi engine humming outside. (like what she does now along to an old favorite song…the one she used to sing but has long since forgotten the words) Her visions blurry again but she knows the screen doors already opened. screenwriting her next escape. Not a premier, but a sequel. You can bet on her split ends and chapped lips that she’ll make it a trilogy. It won’t be a big hit, more like a “straight to video”. Quick to be found on the coffee table in your living room, listening to the fan. (because this is closer to home then you know)
[5(8) + 3] + {100 + [(6+7) - (10+3)]} = ___
itscomplicated
butworthwhile
Electrical cords tied around her insides. Ribs to throats. Tube breathing oxygen. Cold white lies, cold white walls surround the hospital bed. To be on a first name basis with relapse. They wave her goodbye, but its more like a see you later. The tile floors and locked doors know this. One (last) sip empties the bottle. (hiding problems with another) Unction on a wet linoleum floor. And the broken television screen watches her slip back into routine. Bruises can’t get any deeper but there is definetly depth (in terms of darkness and severity). Oil spill fire across yellow skies in Sitka. Smothering thoughts, suffocating veins (trails back to the old days.) land map to a breakdown. No one can hear it but she’s asking for directions, the volume on the tv’s going up faster then they gave up on her. And this night seems to contain more comfort then chaos when she hears the taxi engine humming outside. (like what she does now along to an old favorite song…the one she used to sing but has long since forgotten the words) Her visions blurry again but she knows the screen doors already opened. screenwriting her next escape. Not a premier, but a sequel. You can bet on her split ends and chapped lips that she’ll make it a trilogy. It won’t be a big hit, more like a “straight to video”. Quick to be found on the coffee table in your living room, listening to the fan. (because this is closer to home then you know)
[5(8) + 3] + {100 + [(6+7) - (10+3)]} = ___
itscomplicated
butworthwhile
posted by dcrc at 1:29 AM
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