Chronic, pain, Cocaine

Chronic, pain, cocaine:
my eyes roll back into my head.
Will I ever be read,
before I’m dead?

The hardwood floors
are too fucking slippery
and too messy
or it could be the mess
of life I’m leaving
behind me
my trail
of tears.

But I’ll ride someone’s coattails
all the way to the top
so I
my chronic and cocaine
to rid myself
of the emotional pain.

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Recently moved back to the States after living 16 months in Vietnam. I write to remove the thoughts trapped in the cobwebs of my psyche before the spider envelopes me whole.

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