The Needle Poem by Ashley Fortin

I shake uncontrollably,
As I feel the need surge,
I see my sweet surrender,
And feel it coming to me,
I feel it in my blood,
As though vines of thorns,
Rush through my veins,
But there is no sound,
Only the sight of the ground,
Coming up to meet me,
It is the only greeting I receive,
And though I have fallen,
Once more am I in my own,
My own world,
My own life,
My own psychotic heaven,
Where the needle is my god,
And upon its throne,
No savoir sits,
But the vague image,
Of myself,
As a young child,
And before I,
There at the foot of my throne,
There I praise,
I praise for the life I once had,
The people I once knew,
And the life I once led,
And the life I all at once,
Threw away.