Living

Living
with the knife between your teeth
bloodshot eyes
sweat on the brow
'Here's Johnny'
type living
that must be
real living.
clenched fist
razor blade scrapping
knuckles
bruised and ragged
a tireless workshop
of words
always going 'round
each other with words
'round each other with fictions
isn't it funny how words
can stroke
can bury
Living
real living
you don't even know what real living is
nobody does
itching
the scratch
temptations'
callous hands
busy at work
-always at work
and you call yourself
a liar and you call
yourself flames
and you stroke
and bury
and stroke and
bury
until there's no more
weight left to carry
Wake Up!
you dance with
last nights hallow
memories
of dreams
putting distances
between
you and your loved ones
trying your damndest
to live up to someone else's
ideal
Wake Up!
wriggling
like a trout
plashing
the waters
ripple
lungs
balloon
expansive now
the waters rising
touching
the tip
of your nose
and there's no
where for your feet
to touch
Wake Up!
it's 6 o'clock tomorrow morning
time to get up and go to work.

Author: Buddhadoshā

Buddhadoshā loves you.

9 thoughts on “Living”

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