Morphine Poem by Shalyn Stachmus

(If your lover is the drug, it's no wonder you're so numb.)

If the reverend takes those left alive,
Who will stay to help me die?
No one in this world.
No one in this world.

All these things I hear them saying,
Are they true, or are they playing, now?
I don't want to know.
I don't want to know.

I'm just a mere incantation in this world of morphine.
If no one's murdered, nothing's gained.
Dreaming of the world of empty satisfaction.
If no one's murdered, you can't feel the pain.

The moribund lover's going fast,
Trying to grip what will not last.
He is almost gone.
He is almost gone.

With a murky sweetness on his tongue,
With her lips she stole his lungs, now.
He will never know.
He will never know.

He's just a mere incantation in this world of morphine.
If no one's murdered, nothing's gained.
All alone with their empty satisfaction.
If no one's murdered, you won't feel the pain.

Oh, that sweet drug you took to hide the fact that
You were hurt and under attack, then.
You were so close, but still to far from those:

Mere incantations in this world of morphine.
If no one's murdered, nothing's gained.
Lying numb with an empty satisfaction.
If no one's murdered, I can't feel the pain.