5 - coma
At the time, I thought this one sounded good, but on re-reading, I think I could probably do more with it. I'll continue editing on this one.
Coma
More than a year ago I tricked her,
with a cup filled to the brim with soma.
She's been numb drunken off the stuff ever since,
drinking on warm dreams and suffocating on stupid sweetness
And while she dreams sick contorted reality,
I live tingly comfort, not dreaming or awake.
Just living - is more like being dead.
She can only wake long enough to take another drink.
So today, she reaches for the cup, and something else is there,
drawing it to her mouth, she takes a long expectant drink
from an overflowing cup of harsh fucking reality.
She coughs, gasps, insides are on fire,
mind reeling, muscles taut, pupils like starving birds,
all of her pressed down by a full age of bad hangovers.
Her breath passes, and escapes in red mist.
Like a fallen cripple wishing for a brace,
her arms pull up a body
which sleep-atrophied legs cannot support.
She is becoming herself again,
she is becoming aware of memories.
Coma
More than a year ago I tricked her,
with a cup filled to the brim with soma.
She's been numb drunken off the stuff ever since,
drinking on warm dreams and suffocating on stupid sweetness
And while she dreams sick contorted reality,
I live tingly comfort, not dreaming or awake.
Just living - is more like being dead.
She can only wake long enough to take another drink.
So today, she reaches for the cup, and something else is there,
drawing it to her mouth, she takes a long expectant drink
from an overflowing cup of harsh fucking reality.
She coughs, gasps, insides are on fire,
mind reeling, muscles taut, pupils like starving birds,
all of her pressed down by a full age of bad hangovers.
Her breath passes, and escapes in red mist.
Like a fallen cripple wishing for a brace,
her arms pull up a body
which sleep-atrophied legs cannot support.
She is becoming herself again,
she is becoming aware of memories.