Creative fun in
the palm of your hand.
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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Dark · #2202970
No need for amphetamines.
He swallowed speed to get a thrill,
then listened to the whip-poor-will.
As autumn paves the way for snows,
a capsule—one kiss from a rose.

I asked him to explain the drive;
a want to harm, or to survive.
“A hurricane in my mind,” said he;
“I seek the thrill of ecstasy!”

“I’m keeping my neck warm from sun;
  I need not swallow drugs for fun.”
He merely smirked and gave a turn:
“I hope you do not get a burn.”

After he bade backhanded care,
he opined in October air:
“Beneath grey skies I feel the pain,
  but my rose lets me live again.”

I did not see him from that day;
I heard that he had passed away.
He swallowed speed to get a thrill;
he died as thin as a dollar bill.

20 Lines
Writer’s Cramp Winner

—kiss from a rose
—hurricane in my mind
—keeping my neck warm
—a dollar bill
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