And you slide down the wall in defeat.
(Be it the slick walls of oblivion
That render your eyes open but nigh seeing a vision)
Hate yourself for being so weak
You can't even quit for one day
Can nigh keep your addiction at bay.
The cigarette dangles from your lips
Wet and parted, sighing in bliss:
The smoke swirls about you in a hiss
Comfort to you it brings..
The solace you seek stings.
But such the contradiction it is...
You reprimand yourself for your addiction.
Common sense fleeting, long abandoned you has caution
You're delusional, out of your mind
you need sleep.
If sleep constituted as numb stares beyond - attempts to suppress the urge to weep?
Was, it, sleep?
Drugs to combat drugs
You shake your head and on your shirt you tug
Clutching the area above
Your non-existant heart.
Wishing, wishing that you could depart
Yourself, your life, the meaningless existance you are a part.
The sudden sensation that invades your skin
You think it unnerving, akin
To words acidic on your conscience raw
Behold, you mutter desolately, be in awe.
Of your nuanced grasp of reality..
You feel so out of it all.
Against the wall you curl
Knees drawn tight to your chest as abject misery is prevalant in your soul
'Damn- the world is starting to swirl-'
The morphine is bidding you a bitter farewell.
You despise the sensation.
Buy you bury your head in your arms
Futile attempt in blocking out Lady Morphine's charm
What choice do you have?
Your voice is muffled and whatever is said is a blur
Of soft words trying to bring comfort but naught but
Things that just cannot fix your err..
‘Your want for me has gravitated into a need.’
Your dry, cracking bones are rendered liquefied and paralyzed
By your beautiful morphine’s rasping voice
Washing over you and choking you in it’s vice-
Like grip- what
The morphine alone can reveal,
Strip away your time-honed façade
Threaten to drain your life before your eyes
Words rattled off unchecked in the guise of
An unstable, drug addled conscious
Stark blatant comments, you
Rant about the system
The meaningless existence you lead
And yet, nothing at all you feel.
‘Right now, I’m untouchable.’
But that’s not how your existence works.
You live for your next administration.
Question god about your life’s mission
And, in favor and praise of another ‘higher being’
You find yourself in that state.
‘That’s how your existence works’, you say
The scripted tragedy your are forced to play.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem