Let Me Be Your Drug Poem by Joseph Martin III

Souls drowning in the river
no future no hope nobody at all.
They're riding the wave,
dying in small doses
you already know.

O pretty baby
the worst lies are the ones we tell ourselves-
say them enough maybe they'll turn true.
The worst friend hands you the knife
and tells you it's all gonna be alright.

Stop.
Don't stop.
Don't matter to me.
I'm still right here
where I've always been.

But if you would
let me be your drug,
mend the holes instead
of filing the void.

Stars like you
should burn bright all their own.

8/2002