The First Junkie
The bleakness of the night sky offers little relief
I cannot share your optimism or belief
refute your nefarious cries for help and trust
i was hard at work, i did turn up my sleeve
my heart resonates like a broken pendulum
I have never felt such a conundrum
i appear as a twisted sort of rabid monk
i know not who you are or where you come from
my swelling has become viscous and blue
my fridge never had pictures that I drew
can your pin prick offer me any escape?
my eyes are black and leak with the morning's dew
without you I sweat and shake and freeze
mouth only manages a morning wheeze
with no shame now, i actively search for you
I will never again feel the summer's breeze
I bend and purge judas' last supper
rather you have been some sort of upper
skin withered and burnt like grilled meat
you surely have become my only brother
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