Buckshot Has A Voice

Your words…

Are your weapons of choice

Who knew buckshot had a voice…

You’ve made sure the shrapnel is deeply buried

A cellular pain that must be carried

How much more can I take…

Before I bend so far, I snap and break?

I’m out of my head tonight

I’ve conceded the fight

But the question’s remain

In my mind, they are a permanent stain

The what if’s?

The how’s?

The when’s?

The where’s?

Impossibility has punctured my tranquility

It’s needling need…a junkie’s disability

My heart-burns with destructive despair

And no amount of antacid

Can clean it’s toxic air

Right now, nothing is placid

Grain, grain…go away

Blues melt into days end hues

Our hairs of the cross the last to see

The sky once smooth, become Grainy

The clouds drift in soft, white

To shield us from sun’s heat

And quench parched earth, raining

Pouring to fill another opportunity

Another broken day…

We keep trying to cleanse our hurts away

But the dirt of this sometimes wretched life

Just won’t wash away

Least not now, not today

(written by Beauty and her hot-as-fuck Beast❤️)

via Daily Prompt: Grainy

A Cup With No Lid

How can a thumb crush?

Pressing mine against the window

I’m looking at the world on the other side

It’s making me so cold in the middle…

My eyes close on a deep breath

As my thumb depresses the up

My spirit is in such a shaking rush…

I’m standing on one leg like a pink flamingo

So pretty to look at…even though I’m nibbling at my hide

I wanna get high and lost, and that’s not a riddle

A light shone down yesterday, it was a little death

I tried to catch it, but I didn’t have a lid on my cup

Gamboling Hearts

Four legs Amble

On sidewalks out west

As our hearts gambol

Trapped in our chests

These are memories that now slide onto my tongue

Down my throat…

As my 10 fingers tap

This keyboard in my lap

Your captivating aura still comforts me as it surrounds

And in my ears…your beautiful love still sounds

Hours have turned to days

Days to weeks

Weeks to months

If I could have, I would have

Convinced you there were ways…

I miss you more than you believe

More than you could ever conceive

via Daily Prompt: Amble

Death by peanut butter and chocolate

I’m falling apart, coming undone

Yet my body still feels like it weighs a ton

If I keep asking, maybe I’ll get the answers

My fingers have become 10 tiny dancers…

Moonwalking through my sharp pieces

My desperation…and depression only increases

I’m slicing, cutting myself open for clues

Wishing I could be fake-free in a bottle of booze

And not trying to plunge through my shit-filled reality

I’m trying to remember your tongue making that saliva filigree…

As I struggle to get to my bottom, behind the curtain

I need to go, of that…I am certain

I need to free my…blockage

All of a sudden…my life feels…Substandard

I can’t reach the bar, of what I once considered standard

So I double-fist my popcorn instead

Each chocolatey-peanut-buttery bit unraveling the last of my sanity’s thread

via Daily Prompt: Substandard

Truth Be Lies

I need you, my high…

Never to wave goodbye

It’s me…I asSailed myself

I unrolled the masking-tape

Stuck myself to the should’s and why’s

Now my fingers death-grip the topshelf

And I hang like a decoration-only drape

Looked upon, yet not used…my real-truth belies

via Daily Prompt: Sail