Day to Day Poetry

Day to Day Poetry #60

My the Day is Mighty Angry – revisited,
Roxies keeping my spine tinglin’, hands shakin’,
crystal blue, orange spheres or white powder –
every lie to tell your beautiful face in the morning
that you’re progressing.

Because you’ve come full circle, dear,
the only difference now
is a change of
setting
and a different cast of
characters.

Same
goddamn
plot.

How many more blood-marked eyelids
are you going to smother in make-up
so no one notices
your pupils as wide as the beating sun?

Those vibrating pulsations rolling down
the wrinkles on your skin
will someday break,
rupture in cadaverous flesh
revealing the chemical ecstasy carved
underneath your
numb nerves.

Get down on your knees and realize
this face bears no resemblance
to who you once were –
now just a slave
to this in-betweening life,
recycled poetry,
stretched out lips that vomits
hollow, empty smiles –

Insanity is your only way out, dear,
Madness is your emergency exit.

What the hell is the point
of this whole goddamn joint
anyway.

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