"My mouth is dry" - Emmanuel Brahmstein





"My mouth is dry" - Emmanuel Brahmstein

 
My mouth is dry
My stomach turns
The world turns from gold to green, red to black
I cannot quench my thirst
Sweat running from my brow lets me know my heart is working
A decorative array of bottles keeps me company
At any given time I collapse
Emotion suffers because of devotion
Devotion to misery and pain, loss and not letting go

Will I wither in this place?
My mind drowned out by music and alcohol
My soul trying to vacate my body
I wish it would
I wish there were 12 platforms to find

But I have been a failure
I haven’t been me
Who am I?
What a cliché of existentialism
But seriously who am I
Others see in me more than I see in myself
Yet I’m here with fresh materials to start again

There are so few people in the world who can cause you to salivate
To moisten your mouth, throat, and body
They can come in any size, shape, and so on
But we rarely recognize and hold on to them
Time befriends us momentarily until the end
That moment where slits in the wrist must be made
Where thoughts collide against one another
Where the heart weakens with a-fibrillation
Where the stomach begins to turn towards nausea

There is no drug or substance to escape the one that held you most
It’s hold is forever binding
It’s intoxication flows through the bloodstream infecting every part of you
And when it’s gone the dehydration of the heart and soul begin again
Sweat now accompanies panic
Asphyxiation grows
And one can only hope that perhaps this time it is for real
That the soul can be released through the miracle of a heart attack
Since that’s what it is.
Better to part on good terms than on questionable ones

But I have no luck. I have only the misfortune of living every time
My eyes open and I hear the silence

Another failure, so I must try to fail again, even better
Such a mobius trip of irony, ailing, and thirst

More poetry and other writing is at Emmanuel Brahmstein's site. The cityscape is by Jeremy Mann and more is here.


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