04-14-2015, 12:17 PM
Sonnet to heroin
I’m ready for that last exquisite pain.
The one that stills my breath, explodes my heart
is what I want the most - to fill my vein,
elixir from the poppy’s matchless part.
My dreams each night begin within the breech
of love and trust all down my broken years,
betrayals, broken promises. I reach
a shrine of loathing through these hollow spears.
The scars crawl up my arm and down my legs
and each injection leaves an ugly mark;
I’ll scrape the bags, the spoons, I’ll shoot the dregs
until the world recedes into the dark
and all my life goes swirling down the drain;
to sleep, to sleep and never wake again.
I’m ready for that last exquisite pain.
The one that stills my breath, explodes my heart
is what I want the most - to fill my vein,
elixir from the poppy’s matchless part.
My dreams each night begin within the breech
of love and trust all down my broken years,
betrayals, broken promises. I reach
a shrine of loathing through these hollow spears.
The scars crawl up my arm and down my legs
and each injection leaves an ugly mark;
I’ll scrape the bags, the spoons, I’ll shoot the dregs
until the world recedes into the dark
and all my life goes swirling down the drain;
to sleep, to sleep and never wake again.