deepundergroundpoetry.com
Give Me No Pity
back on the ground again
withdrawing from heroin
sweat collecting in my hair
and frigid air around
shakes keep me awake
bound to a fate
of nightmare visions
like drowning myself
no rest for the wicked
I rotate positions
like a roasted pig on a stick
every digit fidgets
witness a fiend
that wants to quit
to wear that crown
I must stick around
when it all
falls
down
withdrawing from heroin
sweat collecting in my hair
and frigid air around
shakes keep me awake
bound to a fate
of nightmare visions
like drowning myself
no rest for the wicked
I rotate positions
like a roasted pig on a stick
every digit fidgets
witness a fiend
that wants to quit
to wear that crown
I must stick around
when it all
falls
down
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