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Petunia Sour Poem
Head on, twist and turn, pull and burn, push down and torn, Head on.
To see the glimmer awaken in the tear of your face, the solid aroma of an after-
taste, the stolid complexion upon a splintered shrine could not thee keep in-line.
Basking for another night, the high was truly sky, one moment to make it all
better, one moment to keep it all bitter.
Head on, twist and turn, pull and burn, push down and torn…Head on.
Standing there under a tree near park bench, kiss me now and catch your death.
I breathe death into you slowly, whisper inside your ear what to do, shaking out
your insides through the sweat of pills, beckoning push down and turn. Head on
and worn, brittle slorn, reaping what hath slued, face it your glued. A Tickle past
your throat, gagging in recourse, it falls to your pit of acid coming apart, through
the insides out. Brain screams out a truth, simply forgotten when the effects
dissipate, lingering all else lies.
Head on, twist and turn, pull and burn, push down and torn…Head on.
Vital existence, depending on, no one else cares, only if they could relate…sifting
through the madness the brain creates, leave nothing out. Simple words,
scream…scream…Remember to See yourself…See Yourself…re-member to.
The mirror holds an image so clear…in blurred eyes so it could not see. These
pills that digest, deep in tomach, wear off and leave decrepit in a woebegone
brain.
Head on, twist and torn, pull and burn, push down and turn…Head on, here I go
ever and anon. Ever and anon…ever and anon…ever and anon, push down and
turn gotta get my head on. Kissing you I caught my death, shove another pill
down my depths, pushing turning, turning to push, Head on, head on…head on.
Copyright © Petunia Sour | Year Posted 2008
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