Wednesday, April 25, 2012

habitual friends


and you fall
you fall into
again
the pit of habitual
friends
floor of broken glass
and needles and walls of
wasp hives so you can't sit down
or lean weariness off
the hand of a great three-eyed beast
clamped around your ankle
there are stairs that lead up and
out, but you’ve grown accustomed
to standing, and become addicted to
stinger venom, plus the stairs seem so steep
and you really only have the strength to stand
plus there are no friends up there, outside this pit
and you have a beast that’s always here, always grasping
gripping tighter, holding faster, pulling harder and that’s how you know
you’re needed. down in this pit of suffering, this is what defines you. this is you;
a confused and forgotten dig. a classic case of getting carried away and another of
gone too far to turn back now

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