addiction, free verse, independent, literature, poetry, Uncategorized

Wellbutrin

You don’t look too good kid.

How long you been up?

24, 48, sixty hours & not one single chance to bite

That golden hook hanging above like static lightning.

No, not even a single glimpse of the fleeing heel of god,

Just omnipresent Shadow People

& Little ashy textured spirits

Flitting around the tiny doorframe of human perception.

Why are you so shaky kid?

Never had to kill your own meat before?

We all get nervous our first time

But it’s easy as paddling a canoe.

Just slip your blade

Into that thick flowing red river.

Split the surface to let out the demons

& Drown them in blood.

Jack Blare, Impersonating Emotion (2015)

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