in buildings where blinds
resemble prison bars over the windows,
smoke filled second hand dragged
down to inferno and ember
with all the trappings of addiction
restarted for the day's work.
daily attraction to
and the taste of nicorette
spilled from the stomach of an
real love is that sick feeling
in the gut,
controlling like a heavy dose of poison.
banged morphine into veins and
popped a valium,
vodka to wash it down.
flick your ashes down the drain,
scatter them throughout the sewer system,
(they don't deserve to be anywhere else).
i wish i could just plow back through time
into the days when i could afford to be alone.
when i could stand to live with myself and
torture test like freedom's call,
how does it feel to be relinquished from
dropped to the ground with a thud and a cough,
hacked limbs to choke down like pills.
to the end of the world and back,
i'll drag your corpse.
(just to show you how it feels)
(comment on this poem)