The Needle

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Tags:
  • Anger
  • ,
  • Disease

    The Needle

    There’s a soft stinging sensation that rises from the floor

    Lights are dancing round my head

    Who is that man with the apple in his hand?

    Where did I go, I wasn’t here before

    I’m drunk again but never touched a drop

    See me

    See me

    I think I’ll lie down for a while

    I hate the fact that I’m someone else

    From the man I was before

    Before

    The lights are fading out

    Darkness settles in

    Who is that man with the needle in his hand?

    A little prick

    That fucking dick

    What is that sensation on my tongue?

    A moment passes

    It seems like days

    Oh hello Dad, what did I do?

    Did I scare you when you found me on the floor?

    Hey son, are you feeling better?

    Let me help you check your sugar

    That Goddamned disease was here again

    Diabetes

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    Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

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