Firethorn's Den

Ingenious

all the shots of vodka the drunkards drown themselves in can never succeed to intoxicate my mind like his words. they're most efficient in ways they are meant to be. they show no sign of mercy and keep attacking until an image forms in your mind to be idolized. sometimes they say we belong together, and other times they make me wonder if it would be better if we were apart. my faults, his faults, aside, I blame everything on the society, the surroundings, the world. how else would I survive all these emotions that keep changing their attitudes at every turn? I act and react in the most peculiar way that forces me to think Karma is truly a brutal force. she wouldn't be satisfied until I was left with cuts and bruises. But I will not turn the other cheek. I'll simply stare at her with hearts and stars shining in my irises, daring her to give me the saddest blast of music ever existed in any album. I'll just hold on to his words and his reflection until I become nothing but a molecule inside a synthetic bubble floating above the hand-painted clouds while Karma watches me from below; me disappearing out of her reach. doesn't she realize I need to love him, have him, and own him?

© 1/4/03

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