A bit of coke,
little drag of smoke,
nothing suits me
like the
sip of gin
trickling down
your lips
I’m hoping for an ashtray,
a pinch of crystal on
my wrists to feed
these veins
from a dehydrated paroxysm
Never settle for a
sober embrace or
the scent of your
showered skin
But I’ll take the drug,
the need
(a scar)
to burn naked purity
if it means I’ll
always be gone
Aug 25, 2012
Aug 25, 2012 at 12:33 AM UTC
A bit of coke,
little drag of smoke,
nothing suits me
like the
sip of gin
trickling down
your lips
I’m hoping for an ashtray,
a pinch of crystal on
my wrists to feed
these veins
from a dehydrated paroxysm
Never settle for a
sober embrace or
the scent of your
showered skin
But I’ll take the drug,
the need
(a scar)
to burn naked purity
if it means I’ll
always be gone
