I wanted to encapsulate the feeling of craving for the absolute madness and discomfort addiction brings. Even after being multiple years clean, there is a certain appeal to living in the chaos that only being addicted to drugs brings.
the old crone’s dome boiled skull scalding, full of trouble and toil oily face, razorburn neck my eyes the type to scan salamander like darting here to there wondering where to next where to next? I tire of the comfort in mom’s crockpot, I'm hungry for another bite of syringes in the soil slippery like a leech, i suck blood because its richer than what I'm loyal to needlepoints outnumber the steps I cant walk a mile in these shoes another affair with the fairy dust apothecary that swindles all all i have left is the nothing that i have to lose
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