Under the Influence
I don’t know why I’m with her still
She’s a craving I just can’t kill,
She’s a habit I just can’t kick,
I’m an addict – she makes me sick
She burns like “China White” cut wrong,
Harsh as schwag from an unwashed bong.
As bitter as the cheapest beer,
As gentle as pure Everclear.
Her voice rings in my shroom-filled head
She is the meth comedown I dread.
She’s Oxy, fentanyl and crack,
The monkey stapled to my back.
The dragon I chased; she chases me –
The best thing I could do is flee.
But where could I in my hell go
That she, my drug, would not follow?
Copyright © Daniel Beus | Year Posted 2023
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment