Like Opium

like opium,
desire climbing the door;
entering in the keyhole,
today done, and no tomorrow;
the past, reliving those memories,
misery firmly displaced by smiles;
out of my mind, floods my truth,
into this moment's secret dreams;
like opium,
pleasuring apparitions soothe;
pain, woe, and misery beyond,
profoundly warming my grief;
stabbing there upon my thoughts,
silky blue smoke rising;
waving towards my sighs,
eagerly drawn within my breath;
like opium,
anxiety replaced by emptiness;
illusion's grandeur, clothes my dreams,
still, to wake up, leaves me desperate;
I know the desolation that awaits me,
the dream of hope that this high ignites;
burning of my life's truths and lies,
visions gleaned off living's despair;
like opium,
a line, pulls me towards infinity;
firmly held by the thoughts of each day,
threads woven, time fully entwined;
stubborn and not aware,
meant to complete this inner me;
to replace my empty stare,
with addiction, and shameful screams;
like opium,
this smoke, offers another encounter;
my yearn overcomes my esteem,
chance, overflows it's efforts;
ever so thin, reeking of sweetness,
the scent, on my lips, pungent;
forever to linger in my memories,
closed thoughts embrace this darkness;
like opium,
me in that intoxicating bloom;
only an illusion, mine to retouch,
each second, I consume that chance;
that each of the Fates offers up to me,
bitterness or life's savory tastes;
truth's sweetness or a further lies bald,
or forgetfulness and languor's lists;
like opium.

by Michael Walkerjohn

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