One sound
one smell
The memory dug up, and I’m back in hell.
Perfume
old cigarettes
Nights lost to confusion and hers to regrets.
One touch
One taste
one bump
one waste
Moving faster than an impulse
Holding on to enervation
Smothered in the flesh of hunger
Drowning but still touch starvation
A voice
The sound
She always knows where it is found
Betrayed
Powdered friends
No destination, but it still sends
One touch
One taste
one bump
The waste
Moving faster than an impulse
Holding on to enervation
Smothered in the flesh of hunger
Drowning but still touch starvation