Extricating Actualism
By Moonflower
I thought that maybe
I would be able to say
something tonight
while we brandish
thin, callousness
Remarking on
keen intuition and
biting stares
Hollow eyes could never know
the flavor of a whiskey
burnt smile
Slurred over by
aching, wistfulness
We weren't hungover
only frightened of what
might come next
Tomorrow might hold
a new dawn
That terrified
screeching
of a thousand
Highs
borrowed goodbyes
Who can ever know
how this path might
bend
I tried to
wish on rainbows
hoping that sunshine
might
illuminate the darkness
But when we
stood around
a circle
full of fools and
incarceration
We
prayed, hands folded
eyes peering out
into the bleak,
The
unknown
I think we're all uncertain
plaster faces,
sun damaged skin and
clenched fists.We're falling
twisting
our flesh with
rotten
dew drops
borne of the weakest, the
most incomprehensible
I'll take your slender
fingers
like racing unencumbered
thoughts
flying against
the wind
Dance beneath the
sky tonight
with
scattered stars
and a frowning moon
I'll take
those mescaline
highs
Fluttering mind fucks
If
you smile
one
more
time.
Author's Note:
....are you there?Comments on "Extricating Actualism"
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On Saturday, April 13, 2013, Alchemist
(679) wrote:
This reminds me of the old Robert Frost saying three words describe life "It goes on" and hopefully it goes on and on a mescaline high for a good long while before the mind fuck.
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A former member wrote:
This is a very powerful piece. So much said in so few words, Datura, The way you create this atmosphere where every single aspect is forsaken, futile, even the moon frowns down is complete, fluid and precise. I can see you standing in this circle, thinking these thoughts silently as the night wears on. Oh, how it ends...