Suicide Spiral

James has no job,
                 no place to live,
                            only one place to go.
                                                To the corner,
                                                           to look for crack
                                                the crystal death,
                             the seductive
                  kiss of death,
and then back
                  to the basement,
                             down in the dark,
                                                   flick the Bic,
                                                             light the fuse,
                                                   bubbling,
                                  crackling,
                  from solid,
to liquid,
                  to vapor,
                                    one deep breath
                                                    no more problems,
                                     all gone
                 in a puff of smoke,
blackout
                 the peace of death
                                    this piece of death
                                                   one bag at a time,
                                    one drag at a time,
                  never enough,
never forever,
                  he always wakes up,
                                    he always needs
                                                                  more.

 

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Wednesday, August 31, 2011 - 13:49

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poetpete

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