by S.P.Flannery

Originally published by Straylight

Morphine drips and marijuana
rests in an ashtray,
partially eaten food lies
waiting for mice or fruit flies,
consciousness drifts between
childhood, adulthood and chaos
while cards, flowers, gifts from
well-wishers collect dust,
nobody to move them,
a volunteer has applied
make-up to make her feel better,
but those pills on the night stand
provide the real cure to escape
from this waking nightmare inflicted
by her own body, skeletal cells
that revolt against the structure,
this rebellion spread quickly to every
system, the brain holds out,
an island of resistance that comes
too late, too far gone to fight,
just the overdose lying
out of the hand's reach.


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