he was a man of relief.
feet calloused by each mile
that he ran in circles
to escape his own reflection.
he shattered all that shines
and then wondered why
there was no light.

his secrets were the currency of trust
and I was bankrupt.
what I would do to crawl down his throat
and drag the words out.
to be the cigarette laced in his fingers,
tracing his lips ever so softly.
to breathe me in, use me.
let me be your high.

inject me and allow me to bring you
the purest peace that you will ever know.
let me in.