deepundergroundpoetry.com
"The Drugged Girl Is Ranting - Part Ten"
Shock, horror, awe.
Sweetly tender heels that walk on the ground,
like she's walking in a pressure cooker.
Boiling under skin and bone peeling away from her legs,
almost as if strings of muscle are being tugged,
by little hands that trail behind her.
Brown sugar has a taste in
the back of her throat when
she swallows the little pills
that make everything b e t t e r.
Snap, hobble, asphalt.
Blood. Smiling. Laughing.
The expedition has begun my friend!
The journey continues to the dark world of--
D R U G S
Rolling hems of green in glass pipes
setting fire to all the pieces of paper
toes cracking
rocks
pebbles
Clumpy water?
Is it just her or is the world F
A
L
L
I
N
G ?
Tap, tap, tap, tap, clup, clup, woosh, splash!
She ran so fast across the concrete,
the water around the pool evaporated.
Disliking the floating effect that the water makes,
something futuristic in the way her hair spins.
Swimming in black tools of mesh and laces choking,
squinting her eyes so tight the eyelashes fold over,
dirty little dress billowing out away from her hips.
Everybody ses her go in but no one cares that she hasn't come up,
bubbles swirl and cloud until there's no more oxygen,
when finally her legs kick up and she emerges--
the bed is soft and her friend is laughing.
Smoke is the air and the pipe is cold like turbo boosters on her back so she can fly up really, really high in the sky!
She looks at the sign in front of the door and tilts her smiling head.
Wondering what an intervention is.
Sweetly tender heels that walk on the ground,
like she's walking in a pressure cooker.
Boiling under skin and bone peeling away from her legs,
almost as if strings of muscle are being tugged,
by little hands that trail behind her.
Brown sugar has a taste in
the back of her throat when
she swallows the little pills
that make everything b e t t e r.
Snap, hobble, asphalt.
Blood. Smiling. Laughing.
The expedition has begun my friend!
The journey continues to the dark world of--
D R U G S
Rolling hems of green in glass pipes
setting fire to all the pieces of paper
toes cracking
rocks
pebbles
Clumpy water?
Is it just her or is the world F
A
L
L
I
N
G ?
Tap, tap, tap, tap, clup, clup, woosh, splash!
She ran so fast across the concrete,
the water around the pool evaporated.
Disliking the floating effect that the water makes,
something futuristic in the way her hair spins.
Swimming in black tools of mesh and laces choking,
squinting her eyes so tight the eyelashes fold over,
dirty little dress billowing out away from her hips.
Everybody ses her go in but no one cares that she hasn't come up,
bubbles swirl and cloud until there's no more oxygen,
when finally her legs kick up and she emerges--
the bed is soft and her friend is laughing.
Smoke is the air and the pipe is cold like turbo boosters on her back so she can fly up really, really high in the sky!
She looks at the sign in front of the door and tilts her smiling head.
Wondering what an intervention is.
Published 27th Jan 2012
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 2
reading list entries 0
comments 2
reads 782
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
27th Jan 2012 1:10am
Well, that was certainly interesting. You used quite a few literary techniques that I don't often see here. Good job, I liked it. The 'falling' thing was cool.
27th Jan 2012 1:50am
Many words, few days. Good to see the blabbing girl lived though it to be the drugged girl. This must be her manic side. After the falling you've got a good solid rock of poetry there that cooked out in the pool. Thanks for breaking it off for us. I liked that better than the falling line though. When we're in the water with you... it's good. I don't care that I don't know where it's going. I'm willing to float there for as many lines as it takes before you break surface. I think I like your near-drowning poetry better than the cutting for this reason. I also really like the smoke for air and cold pipe turbo lines, as well the notion in the final line that this manic innocence is about to meet a real downer.
