ADDICTION

Memories of trials I did attend to last week.

Truth lies in the fog,
said the old man,
Secrets hide in the
veins like filigrane
gold within the cave.

Sweet heady smoke,
show me how pleasure
is supposed to feel like,
coat my mind,
surround my will.

Mirages are my reality.
Cries of child's hunger,
just an illusion.
I see another me struggling
a silent scream
as my lungs exhale the cloud.

Scents of heaven
pinning my body's senses,
make me high,
goose bumps spurt on my skin
as the snow gingerly
covers my naked flesh.

Thirst, starvation,cold...
only kid's old memories.

Selfconsciousness is
what I live for for now,
each time I light the
brownish leaves that
take my spirit away
when today is too far,
where the night never ends.