Never Say It Fails To Do "X"

Remember I courted your sweat.
Slept with lesser loams of methadone.
And no, I won't capitalize. I don't have that much respect for it.

Let's talk about half-lives.
And how I checked your pulse every morning at 8.
Every night at 5.

Occasionally, I think about the origin of dolophines.
And I want to kill Eli, Adolf, or that scientologist with the mouth.
But they are myths. So my anger honors that factory in St. Louis.

I spent 8 months screaming.
And I have the bloody stomach to prove it.
Really, opioids are not that funny.

Everyday I waited for you to die.
But, then my diagnotions never meant much to you.
It was more like, when I say crash, you crash.

And now I sit shirtless.
And I'm tired.
And those 3 years just plain hurt my feelings.