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Black Tar Martyr

Dealing with Addiction

By Word SmythPublished 6 years ago 1 min read
1
Photo by Lincoln Clark

Cold,

Steel,

Spinning along the razor,

Sending,

Strips of sumptuous flesh,

Sliding through the night,

Blood welling through the pain,

Red liquid velvet in the sky,

Agony can only be,

The master when we let it be,

Set yourself,

Set yourself,

Free from that burden,

Far from that fracture,

Fragility is a failure of the will to work past,

Predetermined points,

Prostrate on the floor,

For these pills we're all just whores,

Holding our value as low as it can go,

Insanity,

Repeat another day,

Another month,

Another life,

Just to live another lie,

But I,

Cannot take another breath within this illusion,

Confusing love for lack of hate,

She just wants to dance upon the sand,

He just wants to hold her in his hand,

Soft skin smothered in a slowly closing grip,

Blackened eye and bleeding lip,

Scaling the white brick fortification,

Slick beneath the fountaining tears,

Don't slip,

Don't,

Forget why we first came,

Why we first loved,

Why martyrs we both lived and died,

Damning this duality,

My magnificent contradiction,

Yet still we listen,

To the sounds of flesh being sliced in the street,

Black top kitchen,

Black tar mistress,

Gunman misses,

The bullet hit its mark.

sad poetry
1

About the Creator

Word Smyth

I like to write. I never know where words will take me, or what discoveries I will make along the way. I've never shared my writing, it's very personal. Well, here is where I take the leap.

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