To make an effort

There is nothing at the end of the rope.
Only darkness below the smell of rising disgust.
Impassively lingering in the cheap caricature of the comical impasse.
Big words yield big emotions.

The wine launders tilted sinuses with spurious empathy
while distractions become anxious attractions.
Dull is the blade that slits the wrong end of the vein.

Trying to try is commendable by failure and loathing.
Living in denial will bear sweeter fruits…. Still,

A broken man’s death is something to forget.

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- Posted on May 3, 2014