Gracefully sliding down your silver skin
It leaves a waste of blackness
That zig zags like a corn maze
A flame sets you into motion
Giving off your sought after euphoria
Our bond is one not saught after
Yet its a connection I yearned for
Nights spent on the bathroom floor
With desperation and a fiendish itch
You were there as my comfort
With tears in my eyes and a stain on my pride
We floated off into a temporary retreat

Wake up in the morning
Pancakes for breakfast
Your lips are the syrup
The rain is pouring
Not inside our homestead
We're in no hurry
    to rush to work
    turn in a timesheet
    for the coffee to perc
Çause we're drinking tea
and watching the sunrise

Welcome to AA. Also known as Addicts anonymous
Well, hi I’m Jetzael, and I have an addictive personality. But you can call me jet. It started about 4 years ago with small things.
You know, from the things I ate to the seats I took.
But then my addictive personality escalated to people. But let me explain to you how my addiction with people worked… or works.
Itll start of by needing to take a glance at you. That would fulfill my high. Then I needed a simple hello until I needed a hug, a conversation, lunch every day, a seat next to you, it never stopped! My addiction with you never stopped, it just kept growing.
And when my high wore off, you didn’t get out of my head. What were you doing? Were you happy? Did you need something? Are you mad, sad, frustrated? Are you okay? … am I okay?
All I could ever think about, was you.
And we all know here, addictions never end in a good high.
So it got to the point where my questions turned from were you okay? To was I ever gonna be.
I went through the withdrawal. All alone. All the restless tearful nights until I got high again. Not by you though. But her name was oxycodone, with her friends Percocet and codeine.
They became my best friends. They always distracted me from you until I got tired of them, because you… pff… you gave me highs that codeine could never. But then came along all the restless, nauseous, and chilly nights until they all got out of my system. Why? Because I was growing an addiction for you… again. Would you still like me this way? Would you support my ways? But the one question that kept me up all night was, did you still love me?
At least just a little bit?
But then my old home-girl came through, Maryjane. And numbed my mind away from all the questions and thoughts that existed about you.
She would smoke me out every day, before the sun was even two minutes into his 12-hour shift.
We would be numb the whole day so I never had the chance of thinking about you. Couple of months went by, but if you wanna be exact, my addictive personality could tell you how many months, days, hours, minutes and seconds it was. But that’s unnecessary.
I mean, all my highs were starting to let me forget your scent, touch, words, even your face.
But then you crossed me again, and all those things I thought I forgot about you, rushed back into my head faster than any other drug that existed.
So here I am again, craving highs, not from oxy, perc, codeine or marijuana,
but from you.

So,
so and so was live five minutes ago
but
I find no evidence to support this claim.

Personally I think Facebook's playing a game,  
'Bring out your dead'

I heard no bell nor saw a cart which suggests perversely that there is a heart that beats out there.

It's after six
I wash
the
morning picks a number
but 'tis I who roll the dice.

Sister's fast asleep and my
coffee's on the perc'
just realised it's Sunday and
today there is no work


Back to bed then


Don't believe
the facebook jive,
I was not live
just
pretending.

I’ve been smoking almost every day
for the last few years

I know it’s no Vik, Perc, Morph, or Xan
and it’s backwards to be used as chloraseptic
but I never needed sweeter substances
and it works a **** ton better than advil

But I’ve used it instead of friends
whether that’s good or bad depends
if I’m on the steep end of dependance
or just really spent  and tenuous

Acquittal is wishful
I’m wilfully guilty

But I’m unsure of what
and how not be