I miss that cold needle push
That perfect fucking boost of emotion
Light me up like a Christmas Eve megalomaniac
Can't you just unclog me already?
It's been a blocked pipe for quite some time now
I'm getting desperate for an earshot of opiate
Hair as greasy as the ever turning gears
He rounds the corner
The orgasmic like rush is almost ready to climax
White eyes as I connect with the abdomen
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8
He falls and I rise
But this color, it drains
Back to the crimson
Eyes more red than his blood
I stare and watch the thick river flow under his mass
I drop the switch and clasp my eyelids
Oh God
Oh Jesus Christ what have I done?
But
You
Lull me back like a child to the crib
Promises of sleeping well and no more Bogeyman
Now child, check his coat and sleeves
And run into the night as the sirens play like the 7 Trumpets
Good boy
Good boy
Good boy
You've done well
I've done well
-
Author:
The 2 A.M Writer (
Offline) - Published: July 15th, 2016 18:37
- Comment from author about the poem: Random story kinda poem about what this addict does to get his fix. How the voice in his head is like a mother to him
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 43
Offline)
Comments2
another very interesting write my friend! ww
Why thank you my friend : )
Yeah I like this one ,
Thank you!
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