My hands shake, grasping at the last straw.

I look on that broken table and the bottles are empty.

No more soft goodbyes and whispered pleas,

I guess this heavy resignation

Is what pain feels like?

Self assurance and mumbled mental notes.

You acted like I was a ghost,

Floating in and out of your bedroom.

Raise your head and kiss my throat,

My fingernails dug in your bedpost.

Let me go and turn away.

I was addicted to this. To us.

Withdraws slowly creepy into my body and soul.

In my veins, I feel like I could disappear.

Haggard breath as I slowly go under.

Goodbye, my Morphine.

aug 20 2012 ∞
aug 20 2012 +