Nyquil

Put me to sleep: I’m drunk on my weakness,
in need of being needy, a grievance
to those who would ever hold me or hold
me back or hold back my hair if I were
a girl or a hippie or something new.
I’m a bit delusional, and not just
from the drags. I’m addicted to the next
step in every situation, my
fix a sheer lack of gratification;
only, when I’m in the act of my wish
fulfillment I glimpse cracks of a new light.
It doesn’t have to be this way; I don’t
have to live this life. I can choose to be
or change or grow or put myself to sleep.

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