Desperation

The 2 A.M Writer

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 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
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