Pickled Onions

The blip on the radar turned into a squadron, I had no idea I would hit the wall headlong.

Sedatives ease these twitching limbs, where did it all start, was it something I’ve seen.

Some great ghost of the past, shredding my mask.

Some omen of the future, with delusional sutures.

Where did I begin and where did I end, did anyone read these messages I send

I sit for now on this pillow of pharmaceuticals, not being whole but maybe just beautiful. I slip inside, my own inner skin, I’ve come unstuck and that’s no way too win. The trophy of sanity, so close but so far. Pickle me now and keep my head in a jar.

D Jan 2017

5 thoughts on “Pickled Onions

    1. Is there a blogging term for blushing, I’m glad that gave comfort but maybe just bit nervous because of the ‘raw’. I do find myself being more truthful with each post I make. Thanks for kind words as always.

      Like

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