Blue skin, tight. In that blue jean

Conceal what I feel, morphine.

Cracked-glass itch. Factless snitch, yeah.

Let me confess what I’ve missed.

Orphaned black. Pain, no father.

My only desire, slaughtered.

“Just What I Needed”, The Cars.

Serenade me. Soothe my scars.

Ophidiophobe, fast breath.

My terror, long. Living death.

Gun-shot heart, bleeding words out.

Red velvet comfort, no doubt.

Narcotic wit, right. Thriller.

Poetry as painkiller.