spit back
tar black
pitcher to my lips
inhale
exhale
s(p)it up and give us a s(p)in
a hundred little circles in a row
but you can’t see any of them, can you?
a hundred little circles behind your eyes
but too late! you’re blind
spit black
tar back
exhale
inhale
the order of your words is inconsequential
because words don’t mean anything now
so go on now - inhale, exhale
tar black, spit back until I can’t stand to see it anymore
fish out of water
breathing in formaldehyde
poison in the throat
swallowing in great. big. gulps.
fish out of water
light headed and writhing
your world is spinning
spitting
spilling from your stomach
fish out of water
gullible gulping gasping
for little sips of poison
to fill up your lungs
fish out of water
simultaneously suffocates
and drowns
Saul Williams has a new album! You should go download it, ’cause it’s free!
Burning pain that swallows everything
until nothing is left.
Inside the parts that light can’t see.
The things that scratch
and cut
and rip.
The things that scratch
and bite the flesh;
the soft underbelly.
IT DEVOURS.
And soon there will be
nothing
left.
I will fight it until the end.
This feeling is digesting me.
Here’s my link. Go forth beings and read!
http://www.nanowrimo.org/eng/user/210150
This, mortals, is the creative writing journal of Antigone Slavko. You are either here because you’re part of the writing elective at my school, you were linked from here, or you got here from a search engine. WHO KNOWS. But now that you’re here, you should peruse the works. Comment, repost with credits, just don’t steal and it’s all gravy.
With that being said…
Live long and prosper.
