Window

Window

A Poem by Anastasia
"

An ode to addiction.

"

Window

 

Damien,

Everywhere I go I see

Everywhere I go its me

Me, who wants what's bad for her

I can't get enough of killing her

 

Everywhere that I go

Everything that I see

People called friends keep calling to me

Substances I let take over

They fill me up and eat my left-overs

 

Wanna have sum fun?

Wanna feel no pain?

This game is always the same.

 

And it hurts.

And it kills.

And it took away from my soul. For Real.

 

Bits & Pieces chipped off from Snorts & Hits.

And I couldn't care less about any s**t.

 

I called for help and someone came

By that time, I didn't feel the same

 

Go on home

I'm staying here

Prop me up and bring me my dear

My dear love, that loves me not.

 

The illusion it gives, lets me take another hit

By a beautiful window from a twisted dark box

Looks as if I'm free

 

But, all of a sudden, I turned to look

And My Window has closed in on me.

 

 

06-26-06  4:46pm

© 2008 Anastasia


My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register




Featured Review

For Anastasia

You are my dark friend. You open my silent door to nights airy sounds and let yourself in. You spin spells of mystery wide-eyed and sincere, I am held captive to your truth. There is another world now filled with stories wrought from your butterscotch soul. I offer my veins to your sweet dreams.



Posted 15 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

Sometimes I think addiction is the natural state of mankind. It is for me, at any rate.

Posted 12 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Profoundly poignant, this dark horse
of addiction. You've captured it so
very well. Nicely done.

Posted 13 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

For Anastasia

You are my dark friend. You open my silent door to nights airy sounds and let yourself in. You spin spells of mystery wide-eyed and sincere, I am held captive to your truth. There is another world now filled with stories wrought from your butterscotch soul. I offer my veins to your sweet dreams.



Posted 15 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

220 Views
3 Reviews
Added on July 2, 2008

Author

Anastasia
Anastasia

Atlanta, GA



About
Writing has become a hobby, an outlet for me. My grammatical errors are prevalent. My spelling is usually pretty good. I do not write all the time, but sometimes I just need to get it out of me. I.. more..

Writing