They say death is the ultimate destination but we all make stops there along the way before our journeys over
They say death is cyclical that we die again and again until we experience the ultimate death and even that is just a severance from flesh
Oh well how many times must I have died when I saw you in port for the first time
In that short brief span of time
97 cases of heart failure
108 cases of asphyxiation
At least a dozen or so more deaths from my brain having to be restarted ad infinitum
Each case ending in the same euphoric prostration of my self before your form
I needed a release but even the alcohol could not blind me from glory of your charm
YOU ARE READING
The Penultimate Pleasures
PoesieA collection of poems meant to embody the ongoing struggle of souls seeking shelter in modernity. (Let me know what you think:)
