There was elegance in my self-destruction
Disheartened trees were uniquely placed
Throughout the tall wet grass
Pointing their undressed limbs
In every direction
Stiff like corpses doomed to suffer
Silently through the tormenting rain and snow
There I sat in the seventh circle of hell
Pressing my chapped lips
Against the comfort of a forgotten rosary
My knuckles turned a ghostly white
Strangling the seat a hard wooden bench
Curvy veins protruded like snakes
Entangled in the skin of my forearm
Eagerly awaiting their routine venom fix
My reflection faked a smile
Beneath the shinny metallic surface of a spoon
Glowing red above a candles flame
The needle tore a hole
Basking in its vengeance
My empty silhouette made its bed on the blacktop
Dressed in retired leaves and cigarette butts
Raindrops fell from the sky
As if they were the tears of a mother
Who loved unconditionally
Reality painted black