My first performance at the Living Poet Society event on Friday, August 8th. Newport by Autumn Echo My first puff of Newport tasted like the poison of a wicked wonderland I inhaled the demons in dancing shoes, they swirled a pretty cloud in my lungs my second puff, I thought of you my lips wrapped around this sickness and I imagined that your lips had done the same you see if your lips touched this, and my lips touched this then in a way our lips have touched and our lips have never touched but now I know what you taste like thickness. darkness. a burnt tornado breaking me beautiful from the inside out my third puff was understanding that I if I am going to be in pain if I am going to suffer and crumble and collapse if my chest will scream my hands will shake my eyes will water it will not be because of you it will be any other addiction but you I sucked the life out of this cigarette trying to save myself half of me is ashes just the same I remember my momma warning me about things like this, bad boys bad habits there is no difference the instant I discovered that every time she told me watch out for them I realized I was just watching. just observing the way you walk, never in a straight line you teeter it’s enchanting it’s like your equilibrium is tilted some to the right some to left it’s just like how we are always never right where we should be always leaning more towards it is meant to be, or maybe we never should have met at all but I thought the same thing about this Newport. I thought this could be a mistake. But it’s intoxicating. Terribly painfully perfect. Its the lovechild of oxygen and misery Easily the sweetest suffering I ever had the will to fill myself with I should stop. I should crush this like evil embers I should smash this like succulent sadness But I have useless fingertips Broken wrists Tired tendons I think because I cant think of anything but the thin line Beginnings and endings Your top lip and bottom This cloud and the sky The sky and the universe My feet and the ground You are the thin line that feels like breaking Im taking it all in like it wont be the death of me But you will be the death of me Or the life or the high Either way it is all temporary. and Im left with this Distant Powerful tremor in my left hand and in my right And its wrong but I need another hit. I crave it I tell myself one more would be more than enough They say there are a million things toxic But you will never find regret and sickening desire On the label next to nicotine and fiber glass is the last of The things tearing me apart from the inside out That Ill be screaming about tonight. I seem to be addicted to things that disappear quickly This is my thought as I breathe in deeply, I let the exhaust rest its razor blade edges on the tender sides of my asophogas. I think my last puff tasted just like my first and My first puff tasted just like you.
Posted on: Tue, 12 Aug 2014 22:01:33 +0000
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