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Twisted and knotted,
The cat's got your tongue.
You ask for a bullet,
I'll give you a gun.

Searching for answers,
Racking your brain.
Thoughts become muddled,
Happiness feigned.

Piece words together,
Lined up on a string.
Struggling for balance,
Soon faltering.

Your soul is unstable,
You've tripped on your feet.
Face in the asphalt,
Rocks in your teeth.

Your medicine's rancid.
Now you've got a taste.
You're crawling and begging,
Pleading for an escape.

[January 20th, 2005]
©2005-2009 ~AlienAntidote
:iconalienantidote:

Author's Comments

Eh, I go through my moods.

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:iconjensenism:
This is probably one of the best poetry I've read....ever!

--
Jensen~

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April 21, 2005
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