THE POISON THAT WIPES ME OUT,(HEROIN),

a poem about a friend who overdosed on heroin and fentanyl.

I FEEL THE BURN DEEP INSIDE

AS THE POISON BEGINS TO FLOW,

DEEPER INTO MY SOUL IT'LL FLOW

AS I CLOSE MY EYES TO LET IT GO,,,

A FEELING I HAVE NEVER FELT BEFORE

STRANGE, YET SO DAMN WARM,

IT'S CRAZY WITHIN A SECOND IT HITS' HARD

THEN YOU JUST KICK BACK AND RELAX,

AS EACH MOMENT MOVES ALONG THE WAY

INTO A VOID OF EMPTINESS ,

ONE BIG MAZE AFTER THE OTHER I FIND

AS THE HIGH BEGINS TO KICK IN,

ONE , TWO , THREE SECONDS PASSED

THEN I NEED ANOTHER HIT TO FEEL BETTER,

SICKNESS FROM IT COMES ALONG 

REMINDING ME OF WHAT I HAVE BECOME,

A JUNKIE OF ANOTHER KIND 

LOST FOREVER INSIDE MY MIND,

SEEKING FOR AWAY TO ESCAPE

BUT IT'S JUST TOO DAMN LATE,

IT'S GOT ME HOOKED DEEP

I CRAVE IT'S FEELING SO MUCH,

LIKE A CHILD LOOKING FOR IT'S MOM

I SEEK OUT MY NEW FOUND DRUG,

 HEROIN, DOG FOOD, MR. BROWNSTONE

JUST A MOMENT I'VE COME TO LOVE,

YET SOME THING I CAN'T UNDERSTAND

WHY I POISON MYSELF SO MUCH,

LOST ,YEAH OUT OF CONTROL

I LET MY BODY GO, YEAH JUST GIVE IN,

TELLING MYSELF IT'S ALL THAT IS LEFT

TAKING IT ONE DAY AT A TIME NO MORE,

I FELL DEEP INTO IT'S GRIP OF SHAME

FALLING FASTER WITH EACH PASSING DAY,

NOTHING ELSE MATTERS TO ME ANY MORE

JUST ONE MORE HIT TO CHANGE HOW I FEEL,

I SOON BECOME SO LOW INSIDE

I OFFER UP MY WHOLE DAMN LIFE,

JUST TO GET WHAT I NEED TO BREATHE

ONE LITTLE HIT, ONE MORE HIGH,

A NICKLE, A DIME, A GRAM THAT IS WHO I AM

ONE MINUTE, ONE MORE SECOND AND IT'S DONE,

MUST HAVE MESSED UP ALONG THE WAY

BECAUSE NOW I LAY HERE COLD AS HELL,

A NEEDLE HALF FILLED STUCK IN MY ARM

AS MY HEART BEAT BEGINS TO SLOW.

I FEEL IT AS IT ARRIVES SO DAMN FAST

THAT LAST FINALE HIGH OF ALL TIME,,,

I SCREAM OUT FOR HELP, OR SO IT SEEM'S

BUT NOTHING, NOTHING COMES OUT OF ME,

AS I SIT HERE ON THIS COUCH I CLOSE MY EYES

AS THE POISON WIPE ME OUT,,,,,,,

Author's Note

looking for comments and thoughts about any and all poems i may post here,,

Reviews

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Indeed writing is an outlet for all forms of body and mind poison. This piece has a forlorn and hopeless feel to it as you take the reader through the 'highs and lows' of class A drug use through the eyes of a junkie. A few gramatical errors along the way, correction of which will enhance it. I am not a fan of using CAPITAL letters for no artistic reason.

[Njpotter]

thank you for reading my poem and for pointing out the error of using capital letters,, that is one thing i am still working on correcting in all my writing, again thank you

[Tilling]

keep up the good writing. Two years clean myself and writing has become a wonderful outlet to be able to process that former life. be well

[Njpotter]

thanks for taking time to read my work, i appreciate it, i still have alot of work to do in learning poetry, i use writing poetry to help me escape a number of things such as stress, anxiety, depression, and other issues i deal with daily,,