She's a vengeful spirit of masochism
once in love with another soul
both self destructive by nature
sharing their passion through
the point of a needle
directly into their veins
replacing their apathetic blood cells
with a synthetic solution
numbing the world whose rule
is a ruthless food chain
of dominance
But one could only go so far
into the medicinal void
abusing the erroneous promise
that everything will feel fine
with loosely prescribed junk
So now this black tar heart separates
leaving one half in the waste land
of a dark hotel room with friends
disguised as silhouettes
while the other half
cleanses and replaces
the pusher men for clean cut attire
Alone with out her cold drugged hand
holding the hand of the one who accompanied her
in the dark corner of the room where only just them
and the needle made sense
she makes him feel sorry with the last injection
her self-destructive revenge
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem