Sunday 11 December 2016

I want rid of you (warning - this is a poem)

For the record, I have thought poetry is the most super duper gay shit ever for the longest time. And I still kind of think that. But, I really enjoy writing it.

I am constantly being told - "you don't even know what you like Alex you've been high for half your life".

So maybe I do like poetry after all.

I want rid of you.
An endless denier, I only deny her,
happiness.
I am weak on my knees,
begging with bitter breath.
Forgiveness? For business.
She tires of my desire to be higher.
The liar extinguishes the fire.
Once roaring, she’s still warm.
Hooked on her feeling,
I grow hungry for her.
I hold onto her.
She no longer holds back.
Heroin holds my hand.
She haunts me.
Hope is my hell.
I wouldn’t even recognise her anymore.
I bury my desire, admire the high flyer.
I can’t do without you.
I don’t want for anything.
I want for everything.  

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