For once, I believed the cup runneth over with shared admiration and over-inflated egos.
The poison is toxic upon every level, the addiction so very appealing as they all are.
I was consumed slowly until I found myself equally amoungsnt those inwhich I did despise.
No truth needs to interrupt your delusion as we shun all those that bear the light of reality's stain.
So, we hide as we decompose.
Rotted in self-imposed exile buried alive in a narcissist delusion.
The window dressings allure seldom matches the truth protected behind a thin wall of glass.
This poison we share is a pleasant-tasting disease.
Are we broken or merely pleasantly demented?
Allow myself to be within your depths so I can feel the emptiness within that's equal to my own.
We are the nights burden alone a mass suicide's painted headline.
Too fractured to envision anything beyond the inevitable.
Did we not entertain?
JPR is a southern gothic writer.
His work has been published in Svartedauden Zine, Piker Press, It Takes All Kinds Literary Zine, Fixator Press, Spill The Words Press, Sava Press, Fearless Poetry Zine and here at The Dope Fiend Daily.
No comments:
Post a Comment