The drug, she said,
Is me and you.
It's everything,
We say and do.

The poison on the television,
A bible in your hand.
The food you eat, and hours you sleep,
Self liberating plan.

It lets you feel good right quick,
A gambler's last pull.
But soon enough it makes you sick,
The void one cannot fill.

The tainted kiss upon your lips,
The ugly seeds we sow,
On darkened corners of one's mind,
Where nothing seems to grow.

It's the fix we think we need,
Essential to survive.
That endless dread 'tween here and dead,
For that moment we're alive.


Genevieve Hoskey
August, 2008
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