On the shady side

       of the shady side

feet in and out of life.

What began

so many times before

   began again . . . the encroach

of strangle and choke . . .

an ever-enveloping smoke,

awoke

   in me

what I never wanted to know

      again . . .

snuffing whatever the freshly

dying light hoped to be true . . .

obfuscating

         sickly

quickly

mercilessly

            it did subdue.

Shedding skin in yearning

living on one lie eating another

rekindling the all-consuming fire

of the death-dealing instance

burning in the door of trance

slipping over into filling absence

escaping to the wicked fringe

oblivion in stupefying binge.

Is there no other place to land?

No one

            to bring me

                to a space

I understand?

No one,

            or God,

            or nothing?

Just earthly desire in dilemma

in the hover

on the shady side
  

of the shady side.

— Shelly the Addict