substances

When we have grown accustomed to the ways, we
don’t comprehend depths in linings.

Itching, aching quietly
we find solace in chemicals
Leaving us swaggering halfway to ersatz epiphany

Pupils dilate;
Short gasps of breath;
Scars engraved;
We bring doom upon ourselves.

And when before, we were clean
And now we are rotten
And when before, we were fit
And now we are weakened

By our own desires,
Paralyzing and numbing us in the most realistic sense.

Vomit spurs
Gone off
Needle pricks
Burst veins
This is the only way to suppress our feelings of guilt and anguish.

We shed blood
and soon, we are dead.
Among ourselves
we blame the society.