PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I'm red, swollen, fear moves in my general direction,

It spreads, I limp, deadly is this infection?

Only a matter of time, before my dumb luck runs dry,

Keep telling myself I'll change, too early to give a final good-bye,

For the attention, pity, I keep doing what I know I'll regret,

A new burn - a new bullet, too intense this game of Russian roulette,

I'm afraid, this time I'm truly scared,

Possible death? - to this nothing can be compared,

And for their concern, the few friends I have I constantly juggle,

Please luck prevail one more time, never again a self-induced struggle.