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Rated: 18+ · Other · Emotional · #1008536
Revised poem, It's one about the problems drugs create both physically and mentally.
In a drug enduced, self destructive daze I cry to feel. My tears feel like gasoline, they burn my eyes like fire and blur my vision. I look at everyone else and wonder where I went wrong, maybe I always was?

I wake up in my own vomit, it smells like a mixture of perfume and fresh death. I'm suprised I've made it this far in the game, I must have some strength left in me. I realize that I am in fact invincible but it doesn't stop the fact that I am fragile and easily damaged.

This anarchy in my head is driving me mad. It feels as if something is clawing at the insides of my skull. I know what it wants, it craves for me to give in. It desires the numbing sense that the chemicals created. I can't let him win, a constant pain I feel. At least it's something. It lets me know that I am alive.
© Copyright 2005 Tye Gates (tylergates at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1008536-Perfume-and-Death