Survival

The needle searches
for its place
many times over
these days.
Blood and scabbard
swirling hazards,
the stopper suceeds
the bubble recedes.

A taste hits my throat
like copper money
warmth engulfs me
the outside of nothing
heart beats beyond me
pin pricks my face
the citric stings
the stickiness alluring
no turning back
even if i want to.

Theres comfort in the pain
I desire destruction
chase it bit by bit
the calm is too late,
love comes too soon.
Use to the edge
nowhere to go
what I have of life
a will to survive.

Place of no walls
room with no exits
can’t ask for help
don’t have the time.
My head spins,
and so it begins
I don’t even try
lost in the lie,
I cannot find
my change of mind.