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MDMA - Poetry Group

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I can feel my synapses sending electric jolts to one another,
firing pistons, high powered machine guns.
I can taste the chemicals,
the composition of everything I put my tongue on;
right down to the molecular level.
My spit is acidic, peroxide flavored,
and my head pulses to the insane back beat of a song no one but I can hear.
Every light has an extra glow, an aura, a halo around it,
and the night is ever so inviting.
Being still is not an option in my book;
this story was based on movement.
My teeth, once again 32 bits of glass,
crash against each other in harsh ocean waves of involuntary movement.
My legs, my body, they no longer belong to me;
nothing is my own any longer.
All involuntary impulse movements and spasms;
everything is now out of my control.
My secrets run out of my mouth before I can stop them.
The truth shines down in conversations on tough topics
where I would otherwise lie and deny.
Some things are better left unsaid,
but my mind and thoughts no longer belong to me.
This is ecstasy.


total mind-candy! thank you for the dessert...

I would love to get to know your cookbook.

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