Codeine

Probably doesn't need explaining. My poetry is pretty transparent these days. Lets just say travelling lots makes for lots of poetry.

These pills

I swallow them every morning.

A daily dose of bitterness.

My hate is old

and borrowed.

Passed down.

Genetics full of soreness

and regret.

‘They’ll work out your faults on their own’

Here I am,

hiding my vices.

Jealous. Impatient. Narcissistic. Paranoid. Cynical. Naïve.

Drowning in day old hate.

Falling with a sour taste.

It fuels me.

I feed it.

Add to it.

Names to a list.

And lies.

Mine and theirs.

Mine and his.

His.

This hate grows older with me.

We both waste and fester.

As each day goes by