the stars, the sea, and sleep.

Monday, June 1, 2009

Hassle

I'm always idle
Suicidal
Base jumping without the cord,
But every breath I take
Puts more weight on these heels
Until I'm
Dragging,
Stopping,
Bored.

What a thought to consider
That should have withered and died
But the sugar and sand
Shook cocktails encased
While the mind and the body
In two cars,
Collide.

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