This Noble Addiction

Even now, the flavor of you 

remains 

on the back of my tongue. 

Your bitterness, like that in the wake 

of the last swallow  

of a dark wine; 

after the saccharine intoxication 

has worn away. 

Though the needle is gone,

the sweat of the craving

is a long time waning.

Even then, I wondered

when will it be enough?

How can I die any more and still

live?

But there the questions stopped

for it was already

too late

for answers.

And when I woke up

it was without my lungs,

unable to breathe.

The next day,

my bones.

My nerves.

And so on.

The stench of decomposition seeping

out my pores.

The fumes, the slime

I still tried to hide.

Even after tomorrow’s tomorrow,

when the cogs of tragedy’s

time

have lost the oil,

the moisture of my temple;

when they have tarnished and lie 

forgotten

under the sofa,

These scars must show.