Euphoric Buzz

I have a little bag,
filled fairly full of
the stuff that I can
get lost get a buzz.

Risqué call me for
me I am a ricochet
on the cusp of what
is a wicked way.

I know I go to light
the spark I embark
to the sea to grave;
the Reaper’s remark.

Climb into curves,
I am sharp but soft
to touch an arm and
move passion aloft.

We are dying today
and every one after.
I want to smoke the
day away in laughter.

The gross neglect it
has overcome me I
reach to the stars far
reaching are my eyes.

A little vision illness
me I find my moods,
are constant now that
the medicine soothes.

Laughter yours love
is such revelry above
the dark chasm hell
I light to think it of.

5 Comments Add yours

  1. blindzanygirl says:

    Wow! Just too brilliant for words.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you sweetheart. 😊

      Liked by 1 person

      1. blindzanygirl says:

        Most welcome

        Liked by 1 person

  2. Lia says:

    The last lines are like the wings of a butterfly in a far-off jungle… generating a deep-flutter feeling. Beautiful poem to be here-now reading. thanks for sharing. :))

    Liked by 1 person

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