Addiction

Who are you but the ghost of my freedoms, 

the heart of my purse 

waving goodbye in the midnight blossom. 

The clarity we seek or 

coffin harmony dancing on the breeze of angels. 

A loving beat on my skin  

as the rain falls across a crucified sky 

into replenishing waters of ivory, 

or crunching snow in glassware cases. 

Where are you outside the pink clouds of euphoria? 

I am losing my mind –  

a false cause with 

cracking skin and 

ruptured fears. 

I am finding myself again 

through a smog that is

black, thick, 

torn at the edges. 

Where am I when the wind drops and clouds burst, 

letting lungs from their grip 

while we grapple for air? 

I - am nowhere.