Litkicks Message Board Archive

Wrong Pill

Posted to Poetry




Let me swallow the cinnamon
that will taste like
blond hair on a girl.

Let me drink the fluids
that will balance
my sugar levels.

Sun and winds I find won't make you.
You need to whisper yourself
to assure yourself you're here.

I can breathe,
and
I can
see.
Consciousness
now,
feels like
wasted
time.