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pear-shaped days

a poem

By Mescaline BrissetPublished 8 months ago 1 min read
4
Photo by Moritz Kindler on Unsplash

you sent me to a place, where the routine

substitutes for all clock ticks

everything seems grey despite the sun shining

through a white wide open sash window

maintained by unskilled hands

not like yours, always ready to help

I forgot what it’s like

to be guided only by you, deeply

only you could reverse it

everything that drowned in a deep blue sea

of dangerously scattered thoughts

I hope

that this bad tape will never return

mingling my mind with the chaotic miasma appearing

pear-shaped

when everything went wrong

in this desk jockey case

having no equivalent in life

I guess that’s where

all the stereotypes and bad experiences arise

like baking a poisonous cake

and measuring life in coke spoons

and forgetting about it all together

when it’s gone

it will never be reborn

in any humanistic form

*

the will to exist

everything depends on it

---

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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

Find me on Medium

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Nice work

Very well written. Keep up the good work!

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