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