I feel used
like a broken car, refused to move
overheated and over smoked
hit the deer and now waiting
in a ditch
where no one can reach me
I called for assistance
but everyone forgot about me
I’m trying to stay awake
but my eyes are shut
like those in the graves
I can’t find the right words to describe it all
from the start
all proper descriptions dare to drown
in this sea swirl
submerging me, not letting me breathe
I’ve become
an inverted version of myself here
where I lie at the bottom of the ocean
no, wait, it’s just a dream
it crashes like a boomerang into my head every night
as I left them all there, without help
and now I will cry for help myself
in this monstrous, multifarious mosaic
it’ll be better when I finally wake up
and I will start to live
before death decides to claim what’s hers
***
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About the Creator
Mescaline Brisset
if it doesn't come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don't do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don't do it.
so you want to be a writer? – Charles Bukowski
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