Tonight I'll take two.
Last night three.
The night before, two.
I don't remember much before.
The target, oblivion, not shadows.
I moderate dosage commensurate with drink.
For too many pills in excess would
not allow one to wake, I think.
It's only the nights I need to pass,
cold and alone.
Bauhaus soothes – that in itself
says I need another.
The pain inside must die.
Surgeons frequently take healthy flesh
with the cancer.
If I must take some cogent thoughts with the rest,
then let the knife at least be keen.
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