The Rush

Who am I in this sad story ?

The pathetic character that swallows lies like they were made of gin ?

The third wheel in that overused triangle, where everyone is rooting for the other girl ?

Am I heroine or meth ?

Which has the happy ending?

But I must be a fool. I must.

Only a fool would keep going back to barbed wire

Keep touching fire

Yearning for a burning, a bite.

Maybe it’s venom that sustains me

Even though it pains me.

I like your hands around my neck

In between ecstasy and smack.

Keeps me on track. Or off.

Grass is better than tarmac.

I’ll keep running in circles either way.

The air around me pungent with your words.

All absurd

And sweet but not in equal measure

The good old pain/pleasure

The undulating pulse of your tongue.

Wringing.Wringing. Wrung.

Maybe I’m just vapour, a smoke

The joke.

A joint in your story.

A silly pause, where you rested your mouth

Before moving south.

I try to do my steps. To get you out of my system.

But when there is nothing but hush

All I remember is the rush.

(C)Slumpless

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One thought on “The Rush

  1. blindzanygirl June 2, 2018 / 12:08 pm

    Very telling.

    Like

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