WhiskeyThe throbbing pain imprints into my brain and slowly I become less oblivious to the concoction of strewn memories covering my pillow. Spluttering, choking on my ego I still reach to grab the relief to my blood shot sorrows. I’ve sold my sole and the Lucifer of life on earth is taking his wage on my life like form. It pains me to stay away and it bores down into the gaping hole of my resistance to lose against the will of eve’s curiosity. I scrape the knuckles of my life against the pavement of self respect. In the stature of current self’s opinion I’m no better than the opinion of my friends. My partner, wheres she to be on a fateful morning like this. Epiphanies only arise once. So why after so many do i see myself still reaping the rewards of a guilty conscience and a lonely broken home. She’s never coming back. Not after that. The crown of my fist is a scarlet purple with dabs of milky yellow. It’s a morbid and bleech day when punishment of the worst consent is a pencil mark rubbed out by an oil stained gloop leaving no recollection of the drawing at hand. It’s not a problem, it’s a lifestyle choice.

It’s cold now. The only thing that that warms me is the scaly specimens of spiders and rats frittering round me as I huddle rocking in the corner. This feeling, I’ve had it before. I don’t know if I’ll ever escape this garden of satin. I feel it calling my name again. It’s haunting my thoughts and taunting my tongue and mind with it’s siren call. I grab it and throw it against the wall. Screaming, gasping for air and feeling an irresistible faction for pain. I pick up the fine shattered shards and lye down in the warm homely ale. It’s a vixen to my senses. I pick up a piece of my dead old, thrust it into my leg. I scream and cry, I’m not cold. Never again. Never again. Never.http://provocativewriting.blogspot.com/2009/09/whiskey.htmlVisit my blog on writing.