A Damaged Front Door

Picby Marc Lionhart04 Apr 2014

Away from service I attend my daily pilgrimage to safety from the fat man
At this time I'm hampered by the aching in my stomach, the devastating crackle of nuclear hell within me
Each foot followed by another plays god, homing in on my failing self
Got there for the finale, collapsed and awoke a few hours later with blood on my jaw
Hurts to talk, so I sit and wait for help
It never arrives
"Do you mind!" I'm thinking as I grasp a broken finger
My brain has prolapsed
Fuck I got myself hurt didn't I? Barely got through the door before I was in tatters. Torn my skin and dried up, like rotting fruit
I'm a hermit at heart, but I wear my face hard on the edge of my head, right where my eyes should be
Feel like I'm gonna burst. I don't. I hold it all in
Don't feel like conjuring metaphors tonight. Don't think I can muster a clever word or two, had it taken out of me today
I'm terrified I'll not have the time to stroke my cock anymore, or think beyond the lines or write a novel
How can I when my writing is failing me so?
Turning blank pages seems a little pointless, alas, I'll persist until it cuts my calloused fingertips
Thinking of all the women I have fucked. Thinking of how wet they were
Makes me wither, why? Don't know
Dust in my lungs, coughing only angers it so I hold my breath until my face turns blue, then black
Fuck the streets of raging fire, this is not the time for immortality.