The Beast Within (tw: addiction)
The pill in my hand is a predator.
Jaguar teeth wrapped around my jugular
remind me that death is death,
whether by prescription drug or jungle cat.
The rabbit thumps his feet in warning,
heart racing as he runs,
before arteries give way like a beaver dam
flooded by a river of blood.
A lethal dose.
There is only so much a living being can withstand
and yet I cannot stop myself
from chasing dangers that I’ve just escaped.
The thrill of the hunt,
my most intense infatuation:
each crest of euphoria
climbs higher
the lower I go.
Walls do little to keep out the wilderness.
The beast sleeps every night in my bed,
wears my clothes,
drinks my tea,
laughs watching TV,
and I love dearly this creature that harms me.
How could I not cherish
even the teeth which bite my throat
when they are my own?
Posted Sep 19, 2022, 1:55 AM UTC