Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Rock Bottom

Cast into the pit, no more than a rusty metal bowl
To deep to claw and scratch my way to the top
My mind still sings her strangled lyrics
The siren song of a thousand bleeding orgasms

Bending fingernails until the yellowing gelatin snaps
Using them to cut deep, dripping black thoughts and paranoia
The result as desired, the odor of stinking synapse wafts up
The smell of a need to reason for release, he smells it

His smallish head appears at the top of the pit…beaming
Roundish glasses, smart ass intellect….prying
Clown like hair and caved in chest….lonely
Smile at the corners of his thick and drying lips….smacking

"You have hit rock bottom my friend I can no longer help you"
He drops a mass of quivering flesh and a bottle of Valium
"Cry yourself to sleep, bathe in the feces of a lack of self control"
"I am your Montresor and you show up in jesters motley"

I wipe the stew from my own brow….stinking
My squarish not attractive jaw line…clenching
The foulness of my hatred and bitter thoughts….reeking
The salvation of a final thought…triumphant

I stare at the sullied drainage grate in the middle of the pit
And spit
I smile at my Montresor and squint
Eyes brimming

"It seems that you are mistaken"
"But it happens to the best'
I close my eyes and puff into smoke, slipping down the grate
I had not hit rock bottom after all

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