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Hemlock
Hemlock
By Muriel Palanca
My demons lay in waiting and I can’t seem to get to sleep.
The nighttime draws on all my fears but it’s my secrets that they keep.
My sins are laced with selfishness and a perfume of kerosene.
An empty heart is set ablaze but the soul remains unclean.
Intentions weave such tragedy and the road to hell is paved.
Temptation never ceased to swell for the things that I most crave.
A moment’s worth its weight in pearls for the beauty of vampire’s song.
Yet fate is cruel to me again because the timing is all wrong.
But part of me wants something more than a world that plays for gain.
I ache to walk on that solid line where the pleasure meets the pain.
I’m so afraid to find myself, but I long to taste what’s bittersweet.
My hands can’t help but reach for more when all I want wasn’t meant to be.
I guess I’m scared to close my eyes. I can’t face these thoughts that quietly rest.
For inside these dreams I find pieces of you, all twisted together with tears and cement.
It could be a phase, a minute of weakness and yet on the edge, I still feel unsure.
Maybe I’m dying and sick of the reasons why needles hurt more than the actual cure.
I want something real; a high better than drugs but nothing that matters ever comes for free.
If people can change then maybe you’re different. Maybe the poison is really what I need.
