Dead Man's Curve
My death drive's stuck full throttle
to the floor of the back of my skull,
pressing all the darkness there
to the tip of my tongue,
speeding off into the night again.
These words of mine,
do they disturb you?
do they crawl under your skin
and pull and pull?
do they sink into your bloodstream
like a clot?
do they make you want to scream?
or maybe not.
Maybe you just rev your engine up,
ashes to ashes and dust to dust.
Freud can call it
when we reach the finish line.
a/n: Inspired loosely on Freud's concept of Death Drive defined in Jenseits des Lustprinzips (Beyond the Pleasure Principle).