Warm Tasting Piss – Twisted Prose

they told me to prepare for the worst,

when the worst had already been,

but I pondered and prevailed in the face of the absurd,

migrated my own selfish ways,

lined the box with my lies,

created a vision of who I was,

hidden in the eyes of who hid inside,

it never worried those that cared,

but it scared that part that didn’t see,

blind aggression,

unrelenting rage,

a visage,

a vessel,

my body,

me,

I was,

I am,

my stories told through a hundred eyes,

a hundred versions of who I could be,

but none of them me…

One response to “Warm Tasting Piss – Twisted Prose”

  1. This struck home – thanks – reminded me somehow of the lyrics to “Roomful of Mirrors” by Jimi Hendrix.

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