An empty vessel in front of you now,
She’s long since been elsewhere.
Parts stolen, removed,
Spilled with childish carelessness in a certain investigation of contents,
Exposed to the next
Bared as the great, bony belly to a whale of a ship,
Although hulking, left picked clean by thieves
Predators of all forms and styles,
Unknowing or deliberate,
In their scattering of ashes.
I’m tired of trying to drown you
In the gin in my throat
Of you using any available footholds,
To your advantage, repeatedly
Scraping the sides of my esophagus,
The friction feeding a fire in my trachea
I’m tired of trying to smoke you out
Of my lungs with
A murderer of brain cells
Innocent, third-party casualties
As I search for my cure,
For my light,
At Montauk Point.
Blog Name: Revelations 20:30