Oxycodone

Proxy of pleasure, full measure of pain.
The torment you treasure, unopened
letters you save.

It’s
wave after
tsunami, a bravery
talking I had not realized held
sway;

a fetus twin,
most unfortunate kin hiding in
plain sites of
procreation,

attempting dangerous
games.

My appetite for
change has got
a half-
life of seconds,
sufficient time for young
minds to marinate in
chemical cocktails armed
with crayons

drawing
crass shapes on the walls.

I reckon with
the highs we let our
selves humanize,
I’m on even
God’s
no-fly list, but that
guy only drives us into
asphalt any
way.

I’ve got a date with transiency,
candlelit dinner of
whimsy and wine;

solid enough
to share the memory with but too
flimsy to stand the
test of
relationships and
time.

And though our bodies will
combine and
two hearts will
tango, neither will
dare to
pine for that
plainclothes Tuesday we felt so
casually contrived.

She wanted
something serious anyway, and I’m
not even ready to
settle
down.

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2 thoughts on “Oxycodone

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