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As Rivers Of Fire Quench All Need.

Updated on November 28, 2009


As Rivers Of Fire Quench Me.



Rivers of veins

criss-cross my arms
as I fish for one

with a needle,
probing the slippery

ropes of life
as they jig the jag

of the hypo.
Scar tissue and

Kleenex tissues
mark the spots

of my futile attempts.

Then at long last

the collapsed blood-ways
allow a piercing,

and that divine warm flow
of my heroine

as it dives deep

in the currents.

A few seconds

of pure scalding bliss,
and then veins

suddenly distend,
as my heart hammers

unsyncopated in
a staccato of death

at the ecstacy gone awry.

Fix is cut

with toxic ingredients,

unfixable now...
Pupils pinpoint

death's arrival,
as suffocation begins

on the vomit-us of fast food
that just got a whole lot faster......

snuffing me out into oblivion.

Suddenly I myself 

am in a dark vein,
rushing swiftly to ingestion
by multi-ravenous demons
who squat near a river of fire
and needle me with pitchforks
as they cast me deep
into the bowels of hell.

There I tread

up to my neck in

the feces of my species,

as snarling gargoyles above

seek to suckle my skull

from my floundering shouders.
Now I am no longer

in need of a any high
in a place so low.



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