Dead beat dad
Enlightened
- Mar 5, 2019
- 1,029
A wood fire burns, it pops and crackles. That earthy bouquet envelopes us, the flames dance and mesmerise, show us the things we want to see.
Smoothly we talk comes honest and fluid, lubricated with alcohol, the fading days sun and warmth.
A small chill, nothing my hoodie won't fix, I pull it up, snuggle under my blanket and take a slug of my brew.
There is talk of plans, laughter and plans.
It is so warm, under my blanket by the fire, cozy and comfy.
Eyes closed, I'm awake, listening softly, smiling subtly, just content to fade, I fade in to the darkness as the fire dies and voice hush.
All is still and peaceful.
I should be asleep, the optimum time for me to fade with the dusk is leaving.
A whisper of anxiety claws in to my peaceful bubble and sniffs the air like some insidious rodent.
It bares it's filthy fangs and the blissful silence is eclipsed by nauseating chatter.
Anxiety rat brings his awful cronies to that lovely place and they start to wreck up the joint.
They kick over the dozing logs in the fire, smash the bottles and cups.
My friends are gone. My only company now this orchestra of misery.
I'm choking, bleeding, drowning, burning, suffocating, while this gang of hooligans heckle and start stealing people's shit.
The pain is now agony, my eyes swell up like basketballs, my nails snap and my insides melt like rancid ice cream.
My journey is complete, i pitch from cozy chair to the cold ashen ground, unmoving but feeling the pain in every inch of my skin, every ounce of my fibre.
I twitch, twitch, twitch this will never end
Smoothly we talk comes honest and fluid, lubricated with alcohol, the fading days sun and warmth.
A small chill, nothing my hoodie won't fix, I pull it up, snuggle under my blanket and take a slug of my brew.
There is talk of plans, laughter and plans.
It is so warm, under my blanket by the fire, cozy and comfy.
Eyes closed, I'm awake, listening softly, smiling subtly, just content to fade, I fade in to the darkness as the fire dies and voice hush.
All is still and peaceful.
I should be asleep, the optimum time for me to fade with the dusk is leaving.
A whisper of anxiety claws in to my peaceful bubble and sniffs the air like some insidious rodent.
It bares it's filthy fangs and the blissful silence is eclipsed by nauseating chatter.
Anxiety rat brings his awful cronies to that lovely place and they start to wreck up the joint.
They kick over the dozing logs in the fire, smash the bottles and cups.
My friends are gone. My only company now this orchestra of misery.
I'm choking, bleeding, drowning, burning, suffocating, while this gang of hooligans heckle and start stealing people's shit.
The pain is now agony, my eyes swell up like basketballs, my nails snap and my insides melt like rancid ice cream.
My journey is complete, i pitch from cozy chair to the cold ashen ground, unmoving but feeling the pain in every inch of my skin, every ounce of my fibre.
I twitch, twitch, twitch this will never end
