Untitled Heroin Project
The glass houses heaven
keeps it safe
from harm from me
for a moment only
as I watch the swelling
vein
ten minutes later it
takes me three thousand lifetimes
to walk a block but that is okay
because i think i'm alright maybe
but people are starting to look
and i still gotta live here
make a living here and there goes
my neighbor
into the store with a worried disgusted
expression but two quick
seconds after i'm okay once again
because nothing can touch me
nothing can touch me
nothing can touch
nothing can
nothing
YOU ARE READING
Once more into the night...
PuisiA few poems I've written over the years. They run the gamut (or gauntlet, if you will) from love poems to pieces about climbing.
