My dearest one
Put down that gun
You’ll have what you are after
The dopamine
And you’ll be seen
Relaxed and full of laughter

My truest love
Sent from above
Please resist the potion
Steel your nerves
And all the curves
Will freeze; there’ll be no motion

My sugar plum
You’ll be made numb
If you ingest the snake oil
Grit your teeth
And far beneath
Your feet will shift the loose  soil

In your cage
I can’t assuage
Your sadness and your longing
My truest prayer
Will pierce your lair
A new era is dawning

I dried up mentally
No more flow
The ideation ceased
         rising up from down below

Sick in the head so I’m
Trying once again
To put a little something
        down on paper with pen

I trip through each
                                  hair trigger trap

As I
        hurl
                my weakened will

Crawling from pleasure
                                           to pleasure
                        
                     Unable to set a course
                ...with mere intention

My corrections only
          change my heading
                      by fractions of degrees

~ need intervening  intervention