Needle in his veins is deep into his skin, while blood's drowning in heroin
Lifeless eyes blink, but they don't see anything wrong with all of that is going on, even though they know what exactly is killing him slowly
Dark clothing won't hide his sharp-to-the-core bones anymore
He was left alone, lying on the floor with spiders who crawled on his face
Crying in his long-forgotten form of a fallen bird in the house by the lake, while fish sing about being free
Why does he feel small despite being the biggest for so long, maybe he never was bug enough to stay somewhere else than his room?
After all these years, how to keep all the people who swore to be on his side till the last moment of his life, if it hurts everyone to hear him talk?
He thought he'd never do, but they made him care about the fame more than he ever should, now he can't go through door, cause it's just a hole in the wall
Where is love when it's needed the most in these times of the cruelest kind of an devastatingly hard life on Earth?
Heroin, China white, or just smack, took him
into lost dreams and an altering of gritty reality
Chasing the dragon, didn’t seem enough
to balm a wounded psyche
Losing to lust demons
An iconic face of his late father
A boy destined to see an assassination
Shot at the hands,
of Sirhan Sirhan
Grief stricken is the neon nod, duji
the catalyst that would take his brother
Another reckless misfortune of
the scourge of addiction
Up until a river's cleansing
Washed away are the sins
Recovery that teaches humility
Opening his heart toward God
Liberating his birthright charm
and political pedigree to full shiny view
Somewhere down the crazy river
calm waters bring back a boy
we the people once new
Some people are like heroin... They are so addictive from dawn to dawn...
this drug called heroin
is liquid heaven to some
a high so high
you find the clouds
as you crash
you fall into the burning
arms of hell
where the devil steals your soul
and strips you of your morals
Soft spoken like Charmin
The earth is down to you
You'd sacrifice the clothes off your body
in a winter storm
Forever putting yourself out of the photo
Loyal to snakes
Spearhead in your spine
future bright as a lit billboard at 2 a.m.
all for $2000
Now you live among rapists, murderers
talking only within
Came out of the closet to me
and strictly me
Regret fills lungs like butterflies
My oldest friend
Dreamt of being a pioneer
We sucked ideas from each others brain
World conquerors together
Helped Mrs. Stalworth with 1000 groceries
Taught the slow boy to double knot
This is not your destiny
You befriended me when I was fresh meat
Orchestrating fundraisers in our minuscule community
Catching game winning TD’s
Unstoppable on the field
Nicknamed sticky hands on the gridiron
Now off it too
What changed, pal?
Times get rocky
you taught me that
Why can’t you take your own advice?
Frustration boils like magma
Secrets deteriorate a person
like battery acid
Why didn't you confide in me?
Heroin destroys like tornados
My heart full of glass and impotence
I could have helped you, brother
I'm sorry I let you fall
off that never ending cliff
you find so many people are slighting
But you, you are mostly exciting
ever pleasured delightful
I like the way you seek
Mercy upon the steep
Steep, steep hills you retreat
You find so many people are unhelpful
But you, you are mostly helpful
You come on to the rescue
Of those whom are down trodden
You are a heroin
A female hero delightful
many people are slighting
ever so you are ever, so ever pleasured delightful
3/8/2021
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2021©
Dear heroin, wait there's nothing dire about you. The way you take and make a person to where they can't eat or sleep without you. I'm writing you this letter to let you know just how I feel Oh, that it might alone in this cold dark sell these tears that fall are real. You took someone so dear to me, and for you I have built up this hate . For you to fall off the face of this Earth, is a moment in which I can't wait . I love my brother, and his life was ended too soon. Out of all the people in my life, why him did you have to consume ? I can't lie Over the years I've been tempted to try you just to see. But by the grace of God, I avoided you, and you'll never get to me. You taking my friends and family, people I wasn't ready to let go. You took my niece's father, and now her daddy she will never know . Mothers, father's, daughters, and sons . All people we will never get back. But I'm building up an army, and against you we will attack. Even though you're no, I still wish that you could feel. These tears at night we cry are nothing short of real.
Heroin or Heroine?
by Michael R. Burch
(for mothers battling addiction)
serve the Addiction;
worship the Beast;
feed the foul Pythons
your flesh, their fair feast ...
or rise up, resist
the huge many-headed hydra;
for the sake of your Loved Ones
decapitate medusa.
Keywords/Tags: addiction, drug, drugs, user, heroin, needle, track, tracks, marks, pain, despair, hopelessness, mental illness, heroine, heroic, hero, recovery from addiction, uplifting, strength
Bliss with a kiss
A moment in time with a prick
in the arm and a rush
of confusion and infusion.
Opiate racing through my
circulation. It’s horrific
bliss with heroin’s kiss
My nose is itchy, and my tongue
is dry. Stomach retching.
Is this the high they spoke about
when sharing the wonders of poison
in brown wrapped in paper looking for
citric mixed with dihydrogen oxide?
I’m zoned out now from the moment and
life. It takes eleven years
to wake up from that prick.
A show of red in the beginning and the end.
Loose Knit
by Michael R. Burch
She blesses the needle,
fetches fine red stitches,
criss-crossing, embroidering dreams
in the delicate fabric.
And if her hand jerks and twitches in puppet-like fits,
she tells herself
reality is not as threadbare as it seems ...
that a little more darning may gather loose seams.
She weaves an unraveling tapestry
of fatigue and remorse and pain; ...
only the nervously pecking needle
pricks her to motion, again and again.
Published by The Chariton Review, Penumbra, Black Bear Review, Triplopia
If affection's like an infection,
Then perfection's an injection.
Heroin is your lover!
I am your Mother.
You choose her over me.
She beckons and calls you by name,
and you run to her with open arms
leaving me behind to weather the storms of
betrayal, anger, jealousy
I wear my crown of thorns while you bask in your lovers glow
She is not your true lover .
She is a thief!
She is sucking the life from you sure and slow
While I watch her turn you and twist you
Into someone even you or I don't want to know.
There was a dead little cat
Splayed in the middle lane of Washington Street
While I passed
And there was a man clumped to the curb
Pinching his chubby chin
Between his thumb and index finger
Like a final played poker chip
His eyes as flattened as aces on cards
In a corner bar across the street
While the police rubbed his shoulders and pencil notes
From the rotten sounds ground between his teeth.
Another man a driveway down
Has a nose displaced a million miles from his face
Smeared into his hanky.
Hoping no one notices
A woman wiggles in the wind out back
Like a Fentanyl clothesline clipped with a menu
Her age is a choice.
A third man on his back naps
In that front yard
Clutching his hands
To a samurai sword’s shiny blade
Slippery and stood straight up
From under and through him
Bubbling
Like a park fountain of roses.
Did it all start this morning
In their tiny crooked house?
Their cat scooting from underneath
A missed kick and through a crick
Of an unhinged front door
Out to the busy road?
If that for them
Was quite simply the last straw?
She was hilarious, funny, perky.
Thrilling, lively, exciting and quirky.
Inspiring, frisky, and delightful.
Aspiring, whimsical, and insightful.
We all wanted to be her until drugs
Embraced her, and she dropped us for bad thugs.
Angry, despondent, living in gloom.
A grotesque shell of soul-sapping doom.
Repressed, smothered inside a self-imposed cave,
Depressed, dour, she met an early grave.
Elementary friends hugging in horror.
Hoping she’ll find relief on a distant shore.
This town feels familiar with putting the dead away,
No Rhyme, no reason it's just got to have its way!
Mothers and Fathers cry as the young die and pray,
This town feels familiar with putting the dead away,
Chasing the Dragon though has surely had its day?
As future generations start to slip and decay.
This town feels familiar with putting the dead away,
No Rhyme, no reason it's just got to have its way!
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