Posts Tagged ‘choices’


Poison the dropper

Soften the skin

Lean your head back

And take it in
Venom, merci

It’s pumping through our arteries

There certainly is a lot of it

Coursing through me
Chemical rage, chemical failure

It’s everywhere! It’s everywhere! 

Will someone find an antidote?

I’m getting really scared 
The toxins take many forms

They’re chameleonic that way 

Anger, sadness, failure, fate

Can we keep all the demons at bay? 
Society condemned

Afraid to go in, afraid to go out

Saying too much or too little

For fear of what others may say
Bomb out, rebirth

Prep me up for the hearse

Evil belly, wide girth

At least it could be worse
But could it? 

Is it really not so bad?

Can we really find a cure? 

Reclaim the love we all once had? 
There really is no cure

Only a constant treatment

Love and laughter pure

Our new souls, condition mint.

It’s chased me for a long time now, me and my family. None of us ran at first. We were curious. We wanted to see if it could give us the things we craved. Pleasure, security, excitement, confidence – and the beast did actually hold up on his promise. For a while.

But then, those things it gave us began to diminish, and it gave us new things instead.

Despair. Anguish. Fear.

We did run then. And, I’m not sure how I feel about this, but I ran the fastest. I had a second family now, and I didn’t want the beast to chase them too. I’m overjoyed that I’ve outrun it for the past few years, but I am also crushed over the fact that some of my loves aren’t running fast enough. 

I’d do anything to change this. I’ve ever prayed, quite irrationally, for my happiness to be taken away and given to them. But I don’t think a prayer like that is really a solution.

The best and only thing I can do is keep running and pray my loves catch up. I feel like I’ve escaped most of the time, and I have, in a way, for I don’t let the demon touch me anymore.

But sometimes I feel his harsh breath on my neck and shoulders, and I have to run even harder. I’m always running, even when people think that I’m not. 

Even when they’re proud.
(Can anyone guess what this is about?) 

Only one bite. Then, the morals fled away.

After a mere bite, she slept without dreaming, lived without breathing, and sinned without grieving. Just like the mythical Eve, she tasted something that looked sweet from afar but turned bitter once digested by the soul. The serpent in this case – the reason she was tempted, at least in her mind – was her husband. He had been the cause of this. It was all his fault.

After a few months of constant criticism, joyless celibacy, and a bad habit with the bottle, her husband had finally given her the temptation that she had actually possessed all along. The temptation to chase another.

She didn’t remember much of the first night, other than the fact that she was filled with intense desire. At least until the alcohol took effect. Then, it was more about the death of brain cells than anything else.

After she awakened in his apartment, she found a plate of eggs on the nightstand with a note beside it.

“Had to go to work. Enjoy your breakfast, beautiful.”

How could she have been so stupid? Hooking up and spending the night with a total stranger from a bar?

Still…the man seemed to care about her. He was sweet, much sweeter than a regular one nighter would have been.

It took her a while to register the facts, but she eventually realized that this was going to be a continuous thing.

There was no guilt yet. That would come later, along with the debauchery.