scott moore | sucker punch


Silent and captive
A coping mechanism
What ticked loudly
Was now silent
The run had been healing
Perfect days lined in rows
Seldom seen the last few years
The crazy times were over
I promised, I promise
Sentence served
It was time to test good behavior
My buddy invited me
To a show
Death metal
Children of Bodom rip
You can feel your face cave
When they play
A free addiction
Rolling on
The wind and swells
Of hurricanes
To ride the storm out
And carry the tale
My friends, little
Gremlins hiding
Behind eyes
In the best of times
Pushed back, corralled
For personal appearances
A buckle, a button, a rope
Their break
Fuck it,
In two words
I know it’s over
They serve whiskey
At the back bar
The kind I like
Pounding, pulsing
My heart, my hand
The band, all of it
A personal perfect storm
In the pit
My friends
They’d breached the dam
In crowed mayhem
Pushing, pulling
Arms and elbows
All set free
I wrestled with a bear and
Forgot about the cubs
Never saw the punch
Or the main act
Flunked another test

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