She told me, and I didn’t believe her
“Use teeth next time”
Just to hurt more.
A heart doesn’t want to be sober
Like a trail of swollen lights
Blaspheming moths
Incinerated
Masturbating to their own destruction.
You hear the ventilation buzzing
A stutter of cicadas
Stroking to their vibrations
And I cum a purple substance
Goddess Sativa floating in my throat.
The stickiness of thought,
And a centipede spirals into my ear.
It whispers–
“I have stories about the crawl space in your mind that you don’t want to talk about.”
And then I laugh.
I laugh because it doesn’t mean anything.
And I should’ve believed her.
I don’t want to be sober.
I only want to worship you.

(c) A.R. Minhas 2019
Discover more from A.R. Minhas
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.


You poetize like on LSD. Trippy stuff.
Thank you, man. I just have weird thoughts. 🙂
Kudos for capitalizing on them well.