Pick Your Poison


butchered and bloody i stumble back to camp,
but everyone is sleeping, and everything is damp;
i'm sorry i must wake them, but my bodies broken skin
has made this necessary, so please god let me in.

the advances of medicine have yet to reach this place,
so pain is but a requiem exploding from my face.
i'd like to sink away into a stupor or be numb,
but with these lacerations, the silence will not come.

they quickly rinse out my wounds and extract all the shards
of glass and bone, now i'm alone with no one left in charge;
somehow i have not left this place in consciousness or care,
into the shifting darkness falls my efforts to repair.

the sunrise sets into my soul responsive as cement,
this flesh is gone, my spine is cracked, my hopefulness is spent.
my encounter with violence seeps into my waking mind,
and now i can't remember why i mixed the dope with wine.