deepundergroundpoetry.com
"To the Opiate God's"
That was a great fucking rush...
I chopped up and snorted my
hydrocodone, and, then, I did
a fat line of coke
Then, for the fuck of it I mixed
them together and fucking
blew up
I thought...
"Goddamned, I'm high as the
sky and feeling invincible, I
might as well also add in
my alprazolam for good
measure,"
and, what I found was a great
treasure
The antianxiety pill ground up
caused a cooling sensation
going down; and, the Vicodin
made all of my physical pains
fly away far
When the coke hit my sinuses
it was a fucking rush; but, the
taste of the drip, I couldn't get
enough of
I sat pressed back deep into
the chair; fingers digging marks
like etches, symbolic of all of
the times that I've visited here
Heart pounding, breaths intensified;
I stared at the wall mystified
That fucking line was as loaded as
a blast from a shotgun; then, jumping
up, and running out of the front door,
I through my glass of Seagram's as
far as I could into the skies...
An offering up of gratitude to the
opiate God's for their seeds they'd
planted into the earth, that coming
to fruition produced such a
wonderful, goddamned
fucking rush
I mind-fuck you not...
I'm to fucked to, to, to now anyways
I chopped up and snorted my
hydrocodone, and, then, I did
a fat line of coke
Then, for the fuck of it I mixed
them together and fucking
blew up
I thought...
"Goddamned, I'm high as the
sky and feeling invincible, I
might as well also add in
my alprazolam for good
measure,"
and, what I found was a great
treasure
The antianxiety pill ground up
caused a cooling sensation
going down; and, the Vicodin
made all of my physical pains
fly away far
When the coke hit my sinuses
it was a fucking rush; but, the
taste of the drip, I couldn't get
enough of
I sat pressed back deep into
the chair; fingers digging marks
like etches, symbolic of all of
the times that I've visited here
Heart pounding, breaths intensified;
I stared at the wall mystified
That fucking line was as loaded as
a blast from a shotgun; then, jumping
up, and running out of the front door,
I through my glass of Seagram's as
far as I could into the skies...
An offering up of gratitude to the
opiate God's for their seeds they'd
planted into the earth, that coming
to fruition produced such a
wonderful, goddamned
fucking rush
I mind-fuck you not...
I'm to fucked to, to, to now anyways
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