Looking down my fingers burnt
gasping, my lungs are shot
down my arm,long winding tracks
on the table,stem ...still hot
memories of the sound of the spoon
the hissing ,sizzle and pop
aroma burnt into my brain
my rig filled to the top
chor-boy,blackened spoons
eyes sunken and red
in the mirror death i see
as I overdosed that night in my bed
memories of my past
scarred into my mind
inspiration to be better
I am now of a different kind
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