... addiction ..., ... poem ..., ... poems ..., ... poetry ..., ... relationships ...


Through a forest of
Perfect figurines
I am led to my room
With monsters
Under my bed
And wraiths in my head
Would someone here
Save me from

This drug in me
Is a drink most
Rare. Fermented
Flesh. And the
Eyes of a window-
Less house.

There is no moon
Tonight. And she
Mocks me with
Her back turned.


4 thoughts on “addiction

  1. Again it seems like your poems are saying so much, I only have time to feel the emotions the words cause, I cant slow it down to fully grasp which of many ideas it could be.
    who is “she”? just that is going to bug me endlessly.
    And also? I dont even want you to tell me who “she” is.
    Its interesting that it made me wonder.
    Good stuff.

    • thanks! i am saying alot! 😉 thanks for noticing.

      i’d tell you who “she” is, but then I’d have to kill u.
      she is many things. 😉 when she is “too” many things, it’s a bad day.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s