Milligrams
This pill, unable to think well.
Take this quill, dip it in an ink well and spill what I will.
Dazed and confused.
A brain bruised and abused.
Misused mind moving like pond water.
Stagnant
Talking like the Godfather.
Leaning back, staring at the ceiling as if to find some meaning.
But Im lost in my mind.
Blind in my eyes.
A world obscured with time as its only cure.
Answers as absent as a happy past.
Yet, I check the bottom of every glass.
Listen to these words.
As I go on like a broken record.
Constantly talking about what you already heard.
Ecstasy got the best of me.
Still, finding myself not in ectasy.
Sombody check my vitals.
Last Rights recitals echo in my mind.
Bled all I can bleed.
Need to come down, but to what?
Gunshots and cops outside?
Or the perpetual suicide inside?
An un edible vegetable, I am.
Surroundings slowed to a crawl.
Determined not to fall.
In this dimension where I split the tension.
Suspension of consciousness, working words within.
Giving in isn't an option.
Or is it?
Skeptisism turns on a mechanism of views.
Flowing with all kinds of colors and hues.
Copyright © Mickey Ryan | Year Posted 2005
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