Tick Tock | Teen Ink

Tick Tock

February 5, 2015
By Malibu_Barbie10 GOLD, Richardson, Texas
Malibu_Barbie10 GOLD, Richardson, Texas
10 articles 0 photos 1 comment

Favorite Quote:
“The thought that I might kill myself formed in my mind coolly as a tree or a flower.”

Standing above sands of the horizon,
where rivers of leucine enkephalin
pour down into the hourglass of confluence
engraved mistakes depict divinity
in vast monuments…
you’ve erected k'atun-cycle
brevity from the tombs
where unctuous enlightenment
that dehydrates from the inside
out…comes to secrete its oils
and separates residue from the rest
of us shrouded with anomalous lies…

everything feels slimy
and soiled now…
ruined by the very nature of its disaster
and towering overhead, Mount Vesuvius
darkens the air with its inequitable captures

trekking down, the rubble greets me
the pebbles part to reveal a diagnostic manual
for the dynamics of timelessness
…reading instructions from my unemployed wrist—
while watching for a systematic strike
in the ruins of clockwork labor
and temples past their expiration dates…
I am smoking a joint from Pompeii
you see, even under days of the Trundholm chariot
residents crashed
and fell to pieces
matter of fact,
while you’re reading this,
the minute hand is ticking
down the moments until Catholicism
peaks and spews the ash from its aged laws—
you’re bathing in houses filled to the brim with
many sons possessing bravado…
that like to watch the leaves falling
and count the seconds before they reach the
they’re loony enough to equate numerical concepts
with solar deities, blending pulverized marbles with
imperial periods
when age-old calendars were
tossed into empty vats near The Great Pyramid of Giza
and molten truth scalded through to forms paths of
illumination so selfish, it could not help itself
from the inversion of bulbs that fisted minds
of astrologically-timed hell
unleashing anal pasts
where the LD50 for gravity had been reached

this unit of measurement is nothing but
an antediluvian ravine misted over with tragedy
…concealing excavations from the archaeological
assemblies of liars
I see them gathered in places
where native townspeople stroke tar-brushed lips
to devour crystallized teardrops
as though they are dinosaur-tracks
and I climb back up my escarpment
with Horus wings
gleaning all of the
harmonious emanations from those
who have fallen through before me…

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