by Olivia Weinkein
addiction is a whore.
she says i'm sorry, she says
i'm sorry again.
repetition becomes dirty tile
on bathroom floors.
the flushing of toilets
and this will bleed you dry this time
but it never does
and he's spent.
all else has dried up inside
and IOUs are called for and as
intimate as it gets.
she has become stale bread waiting
for one more addiction to feed upon
dried out and crumbling. this is stark
raving mad, little shellfish. and the
boats will just not float. and i say
one more chance, i say just one more
chance now. that's all we get to make
something out of nothing. but what good
is something anyway if it only serves
to rub you raw in all the wrong places.
when addiction becomes a whore smearing
blood-red eyeshadow on all the wrong
Posted on 02/04/2003
Copyright © 2023 Olivia Weinkein