(Written November 27, 2010, 1:50 am, at age 23.)
A little peanut in my fingers,
A glass of wine on my breast.
A pain or few yet lingers,
A longing ache in my chest.
A furious burning behind my eyes,
A fighting freedom for the truth.
A suspended state of lethargic lies,
A wondrous waste of yawning youth.
A trap laid in full earnest,
A victim I knew to be me.
A delusion fully serviced,
A life allowed to be.