Poetry

FL- Reprise

written by: Chrome

feel like puking

reeling under the sun of my own tyranny
smelling like blasphemy

just... a few more capsules of this magic formula, right doc?

Doc Hemlock. Figgers.

All finns are polyglots; it's innate.



but what i was wondering, if i can remember anything at all

out here in the desert of broken, lonely souls

who've wandered too far to impress someone who isn't listening

when i'm one of those types who needs a part two

so proud to be part one



but still here alone, seemingly



what i want to know, with or without aluminum,


if i can put my pieces back together, for a moment,


is if i'm still here. will i still be here?


cut a piece off the hydra and you've got six more faces of evil.

cut a marianna off a faraday... and you've got...

well.

well what i'm saying is that i feel like i'm only half of something.

most of the time.


but what if i feel like less... than that. how much is left, at that point?


or do i bulk up somehow, become a whole. how would i know how to do that?


any help is fine there, universe. this fire could use some more wood.