no morphine

breaking and
shaking and
shivering nights
i taste calamity
but in spite
of the words and
the cords and the vines
he'd tie us together
and leave us to die
sublime
define
the morning's rhyme
and i
[alive]
cannot refine
the shudders of
pulsating veins
take the reins
i hear blood pounding
in my ears
so when
i die
i'll satisfy
your eyes
but until then
good bye.