I've thought about heroin,
The rush I've heard she gives,
The way she makes problems vanish
While seeping into your veins,
Charging the beats of your vulnerable heart with her addictive intentions.
To lay back with my head on her lap
As she strokes my hair,
Her seemingly loving Fingertips trace
The most sensitive parts of my body,
I lie there,
naked,
exposed and ever so willing,
in some warped attempt to feel,
but not,
simultaneously.
There's a deeper meaning,
Waiting beneath the surface,
For self realization and discovery,
Deeper than that needle
could ever sink Into any
One of those precious life lines,
Find it….
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
An excellent and very timely poem! Thanks for sharing, Kendell.