"I am hearing poetry when awake, dreaming poetry when asleep, breathing poetry with each breath, I am living in a poem."

Friday, April 22, 2016

Thirsty For Euphoria

Predator needles hunt veins
thirsty for euphoria.
Huddled in a cloak of smog choked sunlight
emaciated flesh begs for change.

In the distance a church bell
announces 8:00 a.m.

Salvation never reaches the sidewalk.

©Susie Clevenger 2016

Day 22 #NaPoWriMo 2016


Ellecee said...

Oh my goodness, the dilemma of being hooked on a eupohoria that kills, it's all very sad,Elle

rlavalette said...

Even at dawn--maybe especially at dawn--it's always dark there.

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