Friday, 20 November 2009

68 - Heroin

My heroin you are, my hit of choice:

Your needles need no juice to get me high

Your looks inject themselves into my eye

One sniff of you and all my cells rejoice:

And you’re not cut with rubbish – pure Rolls Royce -

And I’m addicted to you: months go by

With just one thought, which is: how soon can I

See you again, suck on you, skin your voice?

You keep on pushing. Every time I need

That wee bit more to knock me off my face

Your lush plush limo keeps on adding speed

Until my spirit finds itself in space:

And still you are a drug – your rushes feed

A gap I’ll never fill, though often chase.

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