Sunday, January 24, 2010

Get over yourself.

I opened my eyes.
Submerged in a bathtub of a sleazy hotel in London.
I looked for god in the water.

The cracks in the ceiling grew deeper with every question.
I would play checkers with myself.
I spilled coffee on my sheets, and watched in fascination as the stain told me my future.

I slept in nothing but skin.
I used a found notepad to scribble down thoughts,
which were cliched and drenched in imagery.

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