drugs shoot up my veins
like the scorching heat of
the sun, like a secret divulged
after the vague and desperate
attempt to hide it beneath
my own shadow, like a
wilted flower denied of
its own voice, its intentions
muted and enveloped by
solitary reveries, by walls
made into daunting pantheons
salvaged by the goddess
that is you - at last
humbled by the risk to live.
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