Addiction Burns Through The Soul

If open fire was an option to be picked then circle my thighs,my stomach, my face in red ink.

Inquiries about the cost of a refund so clearly unavailable ,cost free is all ill say,i hold nothing valuable on me i cannot pay my dues.

Maybe satisfaction is a price I'll pay for your heart to slow mine down without a sound of disdain.

I hope your aim is not blurry with tears of fear please hold your head in pride my dear.

The darkness I hold is disgusting, so rear your head high, live another year longer than I.

Flowers that chase their bloom for a drug you buy with excitement when walking your elevated with prospers of joy and jolly

empty head, clear mind, sinking stomach; once walking to your residence your home it closes its eyes and looks with disdain. I don't need a reminder if you may.

Once you knock on the door you’ll see nothing but grief and slipping morals to tighter to smaller to frailer to lovelier to emptier to clearer to…

Aim for my thighs rubbing together like firewood leaving rashes that could act as targets.

Aim for my face shaped like a wooden boat widened by my  lovely mistake of a smile

Aim for my stomach with ripples like waves and keep heavy rocks for company.

Aim for the heart that beats no longer just to keep her no it down no chance of change

no receipt to return the drug that swallowed you whole.