Like wires, stretched and torn
The tendons circumspect my bones
No muscle left, just snarling naked flesh
It hangs on broken frame in which I thrash
In which I yearn to welcome the abyss
A thought I run away from, seeking bliss
You beckon, and they rope me in with need
For modicum of self I blame my greed
For pinch of dignity, for some respect
I take another hit of pure neglect
I snort another line for shame and loss
And smoke another pack of painful throes
A spinal column through the skin
A feral, knowing all and wild grin
Clawed fingers - sharpened bones
My wires, tendons - crossed
It is your loss!
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