Time Malfunction

I wrote my past on a piece of paper and set it on fire with the touch of my tongue. The ashes of this ruin, I smeared all over
my solvent skin. (One tantric back in my village said this brings luck!) Painted in hues of a burnt out life, I stepped into a chaos of an urban sorts. Walled in a carnival of mundane delight, I stalled my fate with days of tasteless food and nights of meaningless fuck. Now no medication, no meditation can scrub the smears off. I let my past live in me; I live now in my past. The city lights reflect brightly on eyes with no depth of their own, while humdrum hallucinogens take my mind off my muck. And I wait in the shadows of aluminum trees and copper waters, for the smallest sights and sounds and smells that hint of a tomorrow where i can get my head shaved off of all the rotten hope that got tangled in my hair and stuck there all these years.

6 Comments

  1. You know those moments when you’re walking in the sweet warmth of a summer day, and the breeze whispers good things? When there is a deliciousness in the sensation of something heard, seen, tasted, touched, or read? That is your post. Wonderful!

    Fim

    Liked by 1 person

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