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