Originally written: ???
How I do miss that sweet, cold steel
The pain that tasted of frostbite and vodka
and faded into red wine and chocolate as it swelled.
in childhood you were the paint brush of my flesh
or a scarlet suggestion of fleeting mortality
you grew, as I did, to liberate the poison of my despair
when last we met,
in medicinal carnage,
you became and intervention
to the violence of betrayal.
Never again will your unbiased blade taste my blood.
a new addiction has replaced my dependency.
and yet do I long for you in the loneliness
of solitary nights.
Addendum: I have no idea when I wrote this, it has no title, i found it scrawled on a piece of paper in a stack of old stuff. I rather like it though.