Hiding from hurting
An acrostic poem
Distancing myself from hurtful surroundings
Is that what you are trying to tell me?
Sprinkling me with malignant muck from your licentious life
The triple steps are the ones to take now to invalidate it among bunches of succulent agaves and cacti
Revelations of raucous times discovered along the arid way
Are there any springs of water to refresh my inflamed senses?
Can we not open this can of worms?
There is a place where it hurts the most, the
Ink has dried in my pen, the words have gone astray
Onerous inner burning
Nip in the bud of complicated feelings
***
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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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