Flying Menace

I feel “holey.”

Bloody mosquitoes.

Addicted

It’s not alcohol –
it doesn’t depress me.
It’s not weed –
it doesn’t oppress me.

It’s no narcotics,
It’s nicotine-free,
Just pure antibiotics,
that reeks only glee.

I feel it — the joy,
and a triumphant smile,
like winning a toy,
unknowing all the while.

I’m ready to disclose –
the secrets unbound,
for never will I close.
Words heal every wound.

Rise with the sun,

and

drowning ground coffee,

catch the morning sky,

through corporate windows.

Call it a life.

That spring in her step —

new shoes, some said,

good news, few thought —

fine wine, she realised.

She curls up in her own terror

choosing to hide the pain

under a lavish smile

so big — she seems vain.