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Image for the poem Whiplash

Whiplash

Up,
Down,
Hot,
Cold,
Hell yes,
Fuck no.

I can’t keep up.
Shit is going fast.
Some time it’s real good,
others it’s real bad.

Holding onto my spinning head,
I think I’m giving myself whiplash.
I need some water,
and maybe several seats.
I can’t eat,
I can’t think,
hell, I can’t even sleep.

My mind is going ninety— to nothing.
I’m gonna crash and burn.
Yet, like a moth to a flame..
Here I am again. You’d think I’d have learned.

Fuck yes
Hell no
Down
Up
Hot
Cold

I don’t know, but the shit is getting old..


- Poetic Gawdess
Written by poetic_gawdess
Published
Author's Note
Something conjured up in the midnight hour…due to an overactive brain and just enough willpower to fight it….
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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