Smoke and Mirrors

I’m sitting on black wisps of smoke with my eyes closed. 

I smell the singe of thick, burning locks permeating the air; whispering their silly mantras like saccharine hisses caressing my ear. 

My body sways gently to the crackled melody humming from underneath my bottom, lilting experimental choruses; thick with distortion. Soothing. 

A smile creeps. Not from the smoke, not from the music – but this roller coaster jerking up and down on weathered tracks, it keeps me alive. 

Because who knew one could find a fucking pinprick of light inside this void? Even with her eyes closed.

I’m overwhelmed by the mess in my life but underneath all this disgusting clusterfuck, I’m happy. That’s it. 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s