PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

There's is an emptiness unfulfilled, a

vicious circle of malignant desire

becoming, consuming.

Beyond purple haze, or blue mist...an

Arctic freeze, stone cold ice.

Revolutionize my train of thought, I'm

tired of the poison, I'm tired of being

tired, weary, restless...

I want to rest in peace and dream

again. Death sounds like a coward's

exit from reality.

I will face reality and slap her, before

she slaps me again.

I will enter ceremonial withdraws from

spiritual imprisonment of my own flesh;

love has everything to do with this, a

love that kills, an addiction with thrills...

but I have two cups to fill, the first has

overfill, the second half empty; 24oz

don't quench the thirst anymore.

Shaking, tremors, cold sweat; mental

detox, body cleanse.

The rhythm of my heart is scratching,

skipping notes, beating slow.

I'm reaching out, yet Yeezuz thinks I'm

a fool.