Junkie's Remorse

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
another 430 am work

Submitted: October 25, 2011

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Submitted: October 25, 2011

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Who am I really, but a junkie with barely a leg to stand on?

Looking you in the eye, cry and beg forgiveness; forgiveness that I will only rinse away with the blood from my syringe. With my broken ankle and my broken dreams, my crutches aid in my ability to delude you into giving me precisely what I don’t need. I don’t even need your love anymore, and I wish you would stop giving it to me. I don’t deserve it and I haven’t deserved your compassion since that first time you spoke to me through the glass.

Who the fuck am I, but a junkie with barely a leg to stand on?

I want to meet your glance and know that you haven’t wasted your time on me. I want to know you don’t cry yourself to sleep over your lost daughter. You are my crutch and my stomach turns at how easily I maneuver you so that you may keep me on my feet

when I’m just a junkie without a leg to stand on.


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