Wednesday, September 03, 2008

Smells Like Coke

She lies,

Crushed, but not fragile
A vessel for
Sweet life
Like a knife through my stomach
And a needle to my mind
She tears my eyelids open

To devour

My thoughts.

Sure she shows
My wake, in throes
Of what I chose
Don't

Even think about it.

I'm not paranoid
Just trying to
Fill the void
Stave the crave
And stop my inner infant
From squirming
While I tighten the noose.

Morbid, right?
Relax.

I've got my fix.
It's only three licks
To the center of this tootsie-pop.
And no, I won't stop.

Your intervention clashes
With my dissension.
So bugger off will you?

It's two-fifty for a two-liter
And a heck of a lot cheaper than blow.

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