Needles are never sleeping,
always following.
Ten thousand needles
penetrating my pores.
I have been here before,
every twelve months I get the same
cold injections.
Objection, objection,
I will never condone your
Need for Needles.
Bleed out with blue
as the brown changes you.
Needles, pine needles
littering this carpet
as my thoughts drift back
to your run-down apartment.
No more stealth; deteriorating your health
as you commit to your daily routine
all by yourself.
But they
drag on with you, those
Needles
with their sharp, chilled tips
that make you bite your lips
with your bones –
it hurts so bad you almost
wish you were alone.