The Bottle of No Pain

An aching longing rips through my facade,
That numbing soothing medicine, the bottle of no pain
This liquid that calls for me to take a drink
Takes my poor hurt soul and rips it from reality
Helps a fellow not to think of all their responsibilities
Until that precious shield fades and
That forbidden reality kicks me in the face,
Oh, that longing grips for a sudden barricade,
Those desperate hands reach out for that shot of fake
Begging please, for no more pain.

poem by April Swan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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