Bitter Pillow To Swallow

Bitter Pillow To Swallow
by Maverick.214

if words were cigarettes
Then I'd have cancer by now.
if expressions were velvet book covers
Then I'd own an illiterate library in my sexy bedroom.
if this thus were that whereupon thereby thoroughly tormented
Then I'd toss and turn in my death bed until my gaping mouth caught a narcoleptic fly.

new lights, brighter nights and diet foods made with egg whites
blows a deranged laughter across panoramic dunes,
but who can cry when your eyes are filled with sand and blind insight?
oh, pile it up as the storm rages onward toward an inward spiral of declining grievances.

if illustrative demonstrations were contagious
Then I'd have swung from rafters by now.
if you could even comprehend the slightest infractions of a geometrically predisposed fate
Then I'd have you hung from a tower in apathetic suburbia.

cold sunrises, freezing afternoons and existentially appetizing surprises
correlate a negated hypothesis within an awkwardly conceptual framework,
but who can really care when your thoughts are burdened by idiosyncratic hindsight?
oh, pull it out as the torrential rains fill shallow wells of knowledge upward into quivering ground.

if any of this catered to a needy question
Then I'd have a comprehensive answer by now.
if you could write the ending in the middle of a new beginning
Then I'd have more time to enjoy my cancer and embrace your eternal death kiss upon my bitter pillow.

It's choking me but I'll get it all down--
if you'd stop helping me
Then I'd roll over and stop seeing you in my screams.
if you knew what I meant word-for-word
Then I'd have an easier time to gather my leftover emotions and be on my way.