Raw Citrus Peels

By lupus tenebrae

Something smells of raw deals
or flesh rotten citrus,
and somehow, I can’t tell the difference.

The liquid hypodermics,
dissolving through my pores,
the rush, from which, is carrying me home.

Speech impediments are fun
when talking to no one,
pretending to be ham radio feed.

Slogging through the country road,
through where I once belonged,
back to the ruins, a slight alien.

Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited. Ask the author first.

Published on Tuesday, September 18, 2012. Filed under: "Depressed" and "Poetry"

Author's Note:

*Repost* Written awhile back from when I was in a darker place than usual.

Comments on "Raw Citrus Peels"

On Wednesday, September 19, 2012, King_Crazy_Dave (45) wrote:

you're the man.
A former member wrote: Excellent write man...so many beautiful lines its impossible to pick my favorite :) i kinda relate to it too... when i slowly and silently walk through conversations like an alien....just smelling their fowl stench.. thanks for sharing :)
On Tuesday, September 18, 2012, dwells (4177) wrote:

Wolfie, sounds like you used to be a picker maybe, working the groves with the migrant laborers? Sometimes we can't go home, cheers!
On Tuesday, September 18, 2012, PoetessDarkly (693) wrote:

in the beginning you omitted an 's' in citrus. Just thought you should know. Very well penned otherwise.
On Wednesday, September 19, 2012, lupus tenebrae (860) wrote:

It must have been cut off in the editing, my rough draft has an "s", thank you though.