pop penetration
pushplunger ahhh…
sharp stabs of syringes
on bright white tile
o pos with the h neg
in a too see through vial
cause there’s
chocolate on cholas faces
and brown suede shoes
with no laces
and knowing
that time erases
the track marks
from your once strong arms
irreparable orifices
of boyish charm
unfortunately for me
there’s no rehab for the seemingly strong
for the ones who know
what’s right, what’s wrong
forced to emote
through a mother fucking song
when my journey said
don’t stop your believing
i held on to the idea
that my future’s receiving
some sort of something
to keep us moving
but
stagnacy
leads
to the inevitable choosing
of the here and now
or the now and then
or the words on the paper with my shaky pen
see your duality
your closeted homosexuality
it fucked the ass of my reality
and when you 9th step
and expect me to accept your apology
ill read it after your eulogy-
when i know you’re finally through with me.
