15 October 2005 - I couldn't see, I was so drunk.


Swallowed.

- Before.

Flashes of timeless pasts provoking the pale today,
Lingering a walk toward a dark-something unknown,
Blurry gestures ahead of me asking to release names,
Murmuring those failed words that slid from my mouth.
Falling to the floor that was dusted of stones and grit,
Crimson leaked around my knees, and around my hands.


- After.

Holding my mind, vesturing it and keeping it warm,
Belief had ran into further distance than the current,
Laying on the patch of green closing the dreary eyes,
Waiting for it to clear and wipe away my sorrows.
Praying without hand movement and biting lips,
Lashes of fist-fury swayed side to side in my head.




Poetry by John Ashleigh
Read 703 times
Written on 2005-10-16 at 11:34

Tags Drugs  Cold 

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