I start noticing the patterns of the rag
As I inhale the second (long) drag
The patterns start to change
And it doesn’t feel strange
In fact, it feels good
Like the way it should
My vision starts to blur
And the speech starts to slur
By the time, the vice comes back
The dark room becomes more black
The ears ring, failing to pick a sound
The rib-cage hurts as the heart pound
It’s getting hot, I start to sweat
Memories fading, I begin to forget
It’s not Hash, It’s not weed
It’s more strong from some poppy seed
But I don’t care what I took
I never live by the book
As long as it eases the pain
And removes the dark stain
I would be thankful to thee
Suddenly, I start crying in glee
Flashes of her swaying from a fan
Fills my brain, in quick span
But at least I can’t see her face
As everything is filled with the smoke haze
This is the only thing which can truly take her away
Keeping all the pain, anxiety, at bay.
Someday, I’ll quit
I could hear the Opium smirk a bit
Till then, it will be a part of my kit
To keep her from haunting me
Every second, every minute.

One thought on “Opium

  1. I’ve never been addicted to drugs, but I can see how I could easily become addicted to opiates if I had free access to them. When I was in the hospital and had the patient controlled morphine pump, I really enjoyed that stuff, a lot more than I care to admit!
    I’m visiting from the A to Z list. I’m part of a blogging team. One of our blogs is Poetry of the Netherworld.

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