Vodka pungent and bubbles from gaping pores
Wine drips from fingertips
Alcoholic tears veil his real sorrows
Teeth turn a yolky yellow
That darkens with each impending night
Heroin licks and strokes his veins
Insertion leaves him in a hollow bliss
I can’t help but think
This only happens to the weak
Nails like knives pick uncontrollably
Raw skin screaming red
It too weeps for relief
But he cringes with pleasure
And gores the center of my soul
You own him
Your mental whips and chains
Your deadly blanket skews his compass
That comfortable, warm pain he requests
But what if
This sorrowful state
Feels better than any day sober
What if he needs this blackness
To drown out the real demons
That find him in the real world
What if you take care of him
Better than the world could ever know how?