Pretend Drug
If you were the last drug to enter my veinsBefore it all collapsed in a fall of astral snow
Seeing rows of machine men with pennies for eyes
If yours was the last face I ever saw before
It all fell apart into itself into nothing anything is
Held up propped up set up in a fractured pose
No image, no sound,
Just a word between fiends and the breadth of thieves
Holding life in a breath
Tying a cross on hot skin
If I pretend you are my last drug~
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
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Written on 2022-02-11 at 02:22
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