white milky latex of the poppy

there are always screams

day and night every moment

even though they are there

i refuse to listen

i do not hear what they promise

the payment is too high

and the reward too small

there are days i sit

seemingly calm

i am anything but cool or collected

the plotting and flim-flam started without me

the mission was impossible to miss

they tell me i need it

dr’s explain in hurried voices

“healing is not possible with pain”

but living is not possible

when junk is your life

i can tolerate pain

i cannot tolerate the cusp

between life and death

my lungs breathing-barely

my heart beating-barely

and my mind shut off

like the vegas strip

if gambling changed courses

and all bets were done

a ghost town of hard hits and recklessness

the screams from the corners of my mind

screeching howling pleading

“just a bit”

“it will be different this time”

“you know how to control it”

“amy can give you daily doses”

half-truths and full-lies

pretty pills golden, white, blue, speckled, yellow, orange, tan

different shapes and different sizes

sexy and seductive with artistic flare

a smoke-screen, a magic trick, lights and shadows

when it grips the core

when it defines all

life is only infinite tearing of the soul and body

illness, pain, fear, panic, writhing-i will take death

i will never again wear my death shroud while i live

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