With a tourniquet
And a needles' prick
Attempting to soothe
A certain nervous tic
That both loved and hated
Warm familiar rush
Creates its' false sense of ease
Bringing him home again one last time
Following the nod
He'll say goodnight
Sleep away and die in a dream
Upon the morrow
Your mourning he’ll borrow
© A. Bougie 2002 - Edited 7/27/2018
Nice!! I like this one.
ReplyDeleteHello Amber! How apropos this poem is, especially in the days of so much loss especially due to this one particular drug and its many forms. It made me sad and it made me stronger all together!
ReplyDeleteThanks so much. I originally wrote this piece after losing my first friend to an overdose. After losing another friend this past year it reappeared in my mind demanding revision & posting. Appreciate you reading!
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