Author: pneumothorax PM
An experience of addiction from someone hooked on coke, their opinions on their family who never really understood ... suprising, eh?Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Tragedy - Words: 276 - Reviews: 25 - Published: 04-25-04 - id: 1591463
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Jimmy had called it a release,
chasing a dragon it'd been,
but now as the discarded layers
remain by the close corner of the floor,
the loneliness bites me blue, me seeing red,
angrily demanding more.
The grey swims under me,
chlorine in my eyes, tiles all around,
the floor the ceiling as a hatter's party
while my paled hands screech in knots
against the angry floor.
The layers of lies peeled away some summer ago,
tired relatives returning home to cashmere
and cottons while I in my woollens sat
alone with the clear imprisonment
that was never mine.
Business as my family were, never
appreciated that life wasn't about the M11
and a new watch to match the suit. Me?
I figured it was there to enjoy – a few pounds
And you're up there with him, his right hand man.
The good stuff I saw as a message from God,
A small bite and up you went freely, a cartoon,
Minnie with balloons, the duck flickering.
Fingers at the keys and the pearly whites swing open,
Later, your own, yellowed and chattering.
Soon I'd been banned from all estates,
No money to go chasing, the white
fallen grimy, a disregarded holy colour.
Bit strange I thought, but I was off out the door,
Dancing my way wherever the scent led.
Damp coils of smoke breathe out from the waste,
as a char-grilled guy on a bonfire with a secret exposed.
They all moved south for the weather that year
And the letter got lost in the mail, although,
they never said that. Never said anything, really.