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Intoxication
My ruptured veins spray arterial paints,
Covering the crashed, metallic canvas
That closes me in, locks me in restraint
While I lay, suffocating in blackness.
My neck is twisted, lifted by the snap
Of airbag cushions pushing me to sleep.
My mangled body rests on a seat strap—
Sliced and serrated in the crushed junk heap.
From my lips, drips alcoholic odors
That smother me like a live cremation.
Breathless am I in my reckless stupor—
Inebriated asphyxiation.
Under the cracked windshield, I am shattered;
Dead because my thirst was all that mattered.
poem
by
Tim Stensloff
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