The Drugs Make You a Different Person

I was having a good time,
if you consider it was
almost all a lie.

I was the party’s life
when no one showed up,
just punched me
in the gut with
audacious absence.

I was quite content to
fuck, kill or marry for a
substitute
to clarity,
sequels to street names I don’t
remember but for the
girls I desired;

pouring kerosene
on love’s shoes and watching me dance like I
was on fire.

I was happy to aspire
to little as possible,
dawdle in the daydreams of delusion.

Hell, I welcomed confusion, eloping within my
malleable means;

simultaneously
at peace with
being alone
and lonely beyond
all reason.

I was okay with
equilibrium until
I didn’t carry equal weight and so I began to
let my words equate vertically challenged stature
with a roar,
self-medicated
abhorrence for standing
still.

Pardon my irony and self-acquired pills,
I’m high as a fucking kite and got
myself a destiny
to fulfill.

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6 thoughts on “The Drugs Make You a Different Person

      1. Oh of course – that makes perfect sense now in the context of the poem. I did understand some of that in reading it, but didn’t realise the drugs were those things. Sorry – I sometimes fail to grasp metaphor. My Achilles’ Heel (ironically uses a metaphor to illustrate the point)

        Like

      2. No problem whatsoever. I am a big fan of layered meanings, as in presenting one thing while talking about something else. Interpretation is subjective, and I really enjoy finding out what people takeaway from my work. Thanks for your own.

        Liked by 1 person

      3. I love the idea of it, I just seem to suck at spotting it!
        I bet you would like films like Enemy, Nocturnal Animals, The Master. Cos those were other occasions where I had to have the allegory spoofed to me by someone else!
        Maybe there’s a course I could do …

        Liked by 1 person

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