These days, I crave,
A cup of detox,
Which creeps through the portal,
To a shrunken liver,
To unload the booze of pain& regrets,
Thus to a relieving piss.
A deltoid shot'd help,
A stinging pain,
From love bites of friendly snakes,
From harmless harm of their loveless love.
These days, I tend to snort,
From the pills of detox,
To tranquil down the broken heart,
To pace down its load,
Ignite its childish fancies.
These days, I know,
The only thing I need,
A detoxing melody,
That tucks me into sleep,
And then wakes me up,
To a morning of a newborn,
Thus, I start to write,
A beautiful pastless story.