Thursday, January 15, 2009

...I can be cruel, I don't know why

like fire to the bone
it's like poison through muscle
and thread through skin
the littlest things holding me together
same time breaking me apart

still sleep in shifts like the hospital
a few hours here, open my eyes for the sting
gauze and tape.
back to sleep and pray for relief
she's never happy to bring the morphine
last thing she said she wants to do is make an addict out of me

pencil beats rock, scissor beats paper
angry red skin beats rest
stinging pain and disgust beats sleep

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