Perspective: Woman With Cart.

Tried putting myself into someone else's shoes for a moment; the perspective of the woman with a cart.

I've got to get my fix
To convince away the hunger.
Ears unclear
Dust haze world
Tangled rust veins closed.
Tin filled feet flat
Sway in place.

I've got to get my fix
Its starting to get cold.
No walls
Roof pitch
Ember spitting fire stones.
As I sleep
My fix with me.

I need to get my fix
When the need arises.
Needle point
Wire brain
Tightens.
So I give morning penance
To Saint Dionysus.

Quick like Apollo
Heart races
Hard to swallow
Hollow bones open
Lead core melting.
Bare feet
Winter snow.

Stay here grave stone ghost
Passed by like empty groves
Hearing whispered tones
Of pity and woe.
I've got to get my fix.

Author's Note

Any critique is helpful, just a little piece just for fun.