A Sixpack of PBR Poetry 6

I creep along this unclear border of awareness and desire.
I get closer to what I dream of at night, and what some fear in their daylight hours.
The Dreams that haunt and slither around inside are stories of Antiquated hearts beating and soul crushing defeat.

I have met so many on the recent far stretching journeys, that the faces blend to one.

I take on the nightlife and talk it away, just for the moments like these.
Peaceful silence overtakes me and I can hear my own verbal Biopic and just write some parables on life.

It was long days and short delirious nights when the same girl always caught my eye.
To be a mysterious stranger has always been a gift, a curse, a self abuse in me.

The mystery falls away,
At that moment I look in her eyes,
Just another nameless beauty that I meet.
Moonlight dwellings as summer slouches near.
In my quest of self indulgence, I just drink the last of my thoughts.
I write this somewhat as a story for you to listen, understand, and possibly hear.

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3 thoughts on “A Sixpack of PBR Poetry 6

  1. mindlovemisery says:

    I wish I could formulate a coherent response, this is incredible. “a self-abuse in me” love it, I wish I could write so brilliantly. I can’t understand why the hell I wasn’t subscribed to you before I thought I was but now I am sure of it =)

    • Eddie Cabbage says:

      Thanks for following. The wonders of PBR. I would write the next set as “A Case of Jack Daniel’s poetry”, but I don’t think my liver would survive the writing quest.
      -EC

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