Theme: Nicotine

Nicotine Patch

The twilight of the night is obscure,
Compared to the flame within my soul
Alive like a black fire,
Incarcerating my every organ.

My heart bounce, bounces like a basketball
Slam dunk into the depths of despair.
My skull pounds, pounding
Screams I’m unable to control.
My throat burns, burning,
The flesh ripped to a shred.
Whispers, louder than my convictions,
Oh, how I wish to stop,
These vibrations in my head.
My breath, mesmerizing movements
Twists into the air like dancing angels
So where are my guardians?

As I flick the ash from my cigarette,
Oh, how I loathe the disgusting habit,
I ask myself,
‘Where is my nicotine patch?’
That’s the way life seems to be…
Surely everyone needs support?

Alone my heart bounces,
My skull pounds,
My throats burns,
Movement continues within my head
And yet I cannot voice the question,
‘Is my guardian dead?’

The cigarette now stamped out,
The ash no longer burns,
But my arm remains patch-less,
The lesson remains unlearnt.
Suddenly the night is bright with twilight,
And the obscurity dwindles away,
Whispers become cries, screams,
And I drown in a sea of my own tears.
‘Oh, please dear guardian stay!’

02-Dec-2001

More By  :  Alana Meakings

Views: 1382     Comments: 0


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