Wednesday, 16 March 2011

Poetry please

I feel the desperate craving,
creeping through my veins,
aching from my insides,
consuming me, beyond saving,

irrational, as it really is,
I have to have my fix,
or suffer slowly in silence,
for such a crime as this,

Left too long I start to shake,
talking to myself, chiding,
laughing at the little thoughts,
my body braced, against its make,

No needles are required,
for my choice, my obsession,
cooked up within my mind,
for only you can fire, my imagination.

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