Drugs 

That’s the thing about drugs, 

They seep to your core 

a reflection of failure – the image obscure in smoke. 

I enjoy the plastered amusement. The transient pleasure exhaled in a silent  destructive whisper.

It’s all the same,  it just fizzed with a velvet stroke. 

My lungs swell     exhaling   a putrid air. 

Tonglen, perhaps,  a reversal of states. 

I’ve years yet to die. 

But I wonder if these years between freedom and cold expulsion draw nearer. 

I’m the same as the year before 

My inspiration stands unperturbed by the hanging tranquil haze. 

Can this be what it’s become?

I know it’s not.

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Begum

Her visage a familiar face.
-a granite façade etched content.
Eyes lacquered in tears,
her trembling bust
a vacuum tomb
-clasping at her chest’s air.

She inhales the pain of others,
stealing breaths of distraction,
scavenging peace through neglectful altruism.
In search of an opiate
to soothe her inner hurt
a moment’s suicide 
                                 in another’s vein.

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