By ZoE
Date: 15 July 2000
Fade To White
For 2 years I have been your anchor,
hungering for sleep
Slipping through your tourniquet,
I have ingested your drug
like a tired organ song,
I lay stagnant in your pool of those who will hold you up
when you can’t do this for yourself.
The syringe mocking your wrist
like an almost forgotten friend begging you for one last dance.
In distant chords that sustain me I hear your name
And now, hands clasping what is left of the light
I see you waking,
looking for that disciple on t.v. to help you shake your disease.
You are dying to be clean.
Or maybe you are just dying.
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