deepundergroundpoetry.com

slow death...

As I hold the spoon to the flame,
I've got no one but myself to blame.


As I stick the needle in my skin,
I don't feel like I can ever win.


There's a moment of elation,
That follows the penetration.


But it's gone again too soon,
So I try to find my spoon.


And I'll do it all again,
'Till I reach the very end
Written by Breanna
Published
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