the heart is a junkie in poetry
- April 23, 2015, 11:52 a.m.
- |
- Public
Look, actually,
fools fall in love
because we initially slip
in a small puddle of lust and
momentum carries us into the abyss.
The heart is a junkie.
The heart aches for injections!
Of passion, adventure, attention and tenderness
and when it doesn’t get it
it shimmies it shucks and it shakes
the heart sweats when it doesn’t have love
the heart pales in its skin
the heart sees monsters crawling on the ceiling
the heart scratches its arms til it bleeds
the heart needs its fix
the heart is a junkie.
My heart is a junkie!
My heart strips in the alleyways
begs in the streets
prostitutes itself bloody on my sleeves
my heart is rapt in a fit of DTs
my heart’s skipping beats
my heart’s harassed by creditors
my heart rolls bums for money
just to buy the slightest bit of love.
Love love love.
My heart is a junkie.
The heart is a junkie.
That poor addicted bastard.
Throw him a dime
from time to time.
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