Trip
hospital lags, time drags,
fingers turn blue, holding mirages,
life blurs, common sense ain't no six sense.
needles in my arm, drips feed my being,
sprayed no message, sick in a bowl,
drugs taken mixed with alcohol,
mistaken bodies, at this time I have none,
have to eat, water my palette.
giving all my love to the nurses,
I behaved but they are angels,
when you not yourself, who am I,
polite, scared to leave, but I must go home,
home, my castle. protection,
ask for help, ask for weakness,
build it, house it, brave your insecurities,
pop another pill with a swig of vodka,
drop and wonder why?
my friends I hold out my hands,
decided to be me, and hold my urges,
happy to be myself once again....
Copyright © David Bucknell | Year Posted 2014
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