Crawl

Crawl
Alex Ziperovich

Blue bubbles and white for dear life, the roundness pretending to keep my mind backwards alive,
and they crawl from the bottles into my hands and into my nights,
so many black nights,
down my throat, my esophagus toxic hot kisses the sun the moon the stars inside my locked out soul,
dreaming of outside wishes,
the top of the bottle twists and turns and burns and burns and burns and burns,
a trauma unit in my mind,
and the spiders crawling into my time,
into my valves,
cardiovascular arachnids surround,
only way to escape, that’s umbrellas off buildings,
the spiders crawling into my head,
I can’t seem to kill them,
they come back for me like lost children,
i’m no parent; this resplendent way of managing the emptiness i carry,
pray for me,
pray for the spiders
i’ll never let them take me alive, rather burn my napalm into my eyes,
ignited by lighters fired into my teeth my jaw,
insecticide forever sprayed into my highs so they can no longer crawl,
good bye.

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