Ode To Painkillers
Slow released relief from powder coated tablets.
To an ache which seems to never go away.
When I’m fighting to survive each hour, each day
I will take whatever comfort I can salvage.
My veins once rich with vital fluids
My skin once not so deathly in complexion
The recipient of my fixation
Turned inward on what I’m consuming.
For a few moments of brief relief
I’m condemned to greater sufferings.
There is a line you should not cross, and I
Have recklessly passed it countless times.
For what little anguish I have staved
Away, I have matched in dirt for my grave
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