the trip
i had a deep existential crisis in my late teensand i've been running ever since
do you want to run with me?
(i'm going to the edges of consciousness)
are you ready?
"we're running on tip toes at top speeds!"
sure, we're going to die someday,
we all know it,
fuck it
god, my god, where are you?
i lost you in a plethora of flowery words,
useless and archaic hebrew poetry,
sexualised bible verses
giving adolescents hard-ons in sunday school meetings
running, standing, doing back flips, hopping from cloud to cloud
high above sanity and sobriety - we are gods in our own rights,
masters of our own destinies
we're standing on the edge of a cliff, tempting fate
i picked a flower in the park today
only to watch it wilt in my hand,
and in another instant,
my hand was all wrinkly
with the effects of time's
begrudging stare
are we still running?
is it in my head?
was it in my head?
i think the whole trip might have been -
but man, what a trip it was!
(i think i'm talking to myself again)
4/10/15
4/17/15
5/20/15
Poetry by Thomas Perdue
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Written on 2015-05-20 at 19:38
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