goes the little gun all loaded up
with those sharp little words
lasered onto the flesh of trees still dying
goes the little body of needles and pins
that was once my self-control.
come on, let's dope up
little viruses crawling on the knives that cut our drugs
the extra barb along with the withdrawal
you should never kiss and tell
or flame and delete
those little online forums with their
cups of caffeinated hell.