The Breaking (Stu Hatton)

Posted on March 24, 2011 by in Heightened Talk

 

the shatter & melt:

 

glass filled with ice

slipped from my hand.

 

i mean, i was

just flaking in a booth, dimlit bar,

3 friends,

drugs between us making mistakes

 

&

didn’t want to know

your whereabouts

how you were captured

what painkillers stomached

what beds caught you

when you fell.

 

i fell till 10am,

blurred in cabs, throwing money;

crashed some dirty-hive recovery

 

glued to girl,

dosed up & vodkas,

flapping mothlike at the lights,

kamikaze.

 

played

dumb, played

dead

 

& in her eyes,

death that pretty young thing,

saw a way in.

 

 

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