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Dec 2020
I awoke from this dream in the rubble of my mind. Lost alone in there among the falling Sands of Time. Stricken by the knots that are tied with in my sheets. No more sickness mama please no more grief. All my screws are loose there's too much confusion. Let me fall onto myself into that dreamy illusion. I took the needle from my arm but it's still planted in my head. I've got that feeling I can't take and it's filling me with Dread. I want to slide on down where the muddy water creeps. Where the ****** river flows who's filled with sweet relief. I want to climb into my mind find Oblivion far away from the feelings of the body I live in. Take me to that place that we all want to go. Suspected fugitive lost out on that Lonesome Road. Your constant conversations have me twiddling my thumbs. She was a torturous deceiver with her hand upon my gun. The wind swelled with a gust and I woke from this dream lost all along the lonely streets looking like a fein. I stepped into a paradise searching for my mind. A gonner with a periscope see me from behind. I'm gaining on my final breath aiming for the moon. Sewing up my only close with a needle and a spoon. Drowning in the desperation brewing in my grief. Searching like a street cop lost along his beat. Awaken to the circus that same old ******* show. A sing-along of corpses hitchhiking down the road. The Badlands and sands of time it's the gritty kind of life. Batten down the hatches so to not let in the light. When dependency is slavery there is no kind of thrill. ****** ******* just a feeling kinda ill.
I was an IV ****** addict for a number of years, living in cars, tents, squats and the like. I was clean for a number of years untill this summer I caught the bug again, thankfully I've crawled back out of that cave once again. I suppose this Is an attempt to not forget. Written in prison in Pennsylvania 2016.
Michael Luciano
Written by
Michael Luciano  37/M/Pennsylvania
(37/M/Pennsylvania)   
906
   Imran Islam and vb
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