Purified

 

Purified

If only I could sit still...
Untwisted and clean,
Untainted by withdrawal
In a soft, fresh skin free of chemicals
And messy red wounds.

If only I could breathe new air...
Cool and green with jasmine,
Casting out warm, ginger kisses
To a calm, deserving cheek
Whose dimple runs deep with acceptance.

If only the ugly itch would leave...
Not just bow it's ivy head
But respond to this knife I yeild
As I trim and scrape at itchy, stubborn limbs
Designed to strangle me and live.

If only I could hold on
To this clarity as I don new gloves
And a diet of water and ice--
Toasting the winner of this beastly game
As I slowly starve us both to death.