Watch me
Dissolve….
Resolve…?
A residue or an excuse?
Gnarling at the very
Core
Of where it all began;
A handful of foam.

Have you tasted oblivion,
Perched on the
Edge of your lips?
I have taken swings
From the same bottle
With different labels,
Convinced my stupor
To adore the
Mayhem
In alternate realities.

Waking up with hangovers
In odious daylight,
Eyes besmeared with
Illusory tales,
Written in flashes of laughter,
Patchwork of peeling memories;

It is easy tuck
A suicide note
Between unsuspecting folds
Of bargained contentment.

I have
Crafted to perfection
My caged existence;
What remains are wisps of
Fragile Tales,
Like accidental perfumes
In cheerless alleyways.

8 February 2017

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