standing still, by ERIN REARDON

Keen eyed
It all depends upon the label on the bottle
Cool hand Lucy
Juiced up on cosmic interference
A billion shards of falling stars

Steel eyed
It’s the apathy that crumbles the universe
It’s the catalyst of catastrophic fascination
Suffering long lines just to catch a glimpse
Smell the herbal shampoo in hypocrisy’s hair
The world becomes a parody
A shadow in a box that light will never make real

Doe eyed
Dreamy, sucking needles through straws
A round of applause as you crack each bone
And drink the grape crush marrow
Temptress elation
Psychosomatic penetration
Contemplation of how long until the mineral taste is lost
Or bloodlust jangling like an angry wind chime
Eating until bloated with death

Nothing ever changes
Nothing ever

stands still.

Photo by Daria Sannikova on

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