💉

inappetence is rewarded with spinal ridges-

the only hope for sustaining a rusting armistice.

my pleas for a forcible stagnancy is granted,

shooting up on homemade morphine so i'm numbed to the blade's revolve.

opium sinks to the bottom of the glass,

founding a rock-bottom companionship with me.

blood runs cold before the dawn awakens, 

a heartwarming heartache consoled by hot faucet tears

bleach the sheets and dry your cheeks

and forbid the shakes to exacerbate.

hiding behind second person empathy,

i'll sooner avenge naivety than first hand mishaps...

i despise the accomplices that assist the guilty,

they can choke on your grievances;

build you barriers- but i'll only surmount the walls instead

they can't hate what they don't understand.

i've never taken a liking to being incorrect, 

so don't mistake me for someone with woollen sockets