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I trawl through music,
poetry and everything else
just to give up
and go back
to something else.

It is more intoxicating
than the promise of nothing
as I watch the second hand
crawl through life

Another glass of wine,
another few cigarettes,
another breath,
another heart beat,
cough, sigh,
sweat, smile,
each one, just another.

It has to feel like this
otherwise peace would run;
sanity would become the twig
underneath its feet.

It has to feel like this,
otherwise there would be nothing
for me to write down.

That would be something else.
Written by CruelHandedWriter (Jamie Rhodes)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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