Clouds

For a brief moment,
My problems went on consignment,
Knowing the minute I popped 4 of you nifty vicodins in my mouth,
I felt like I landed on a cloud,
High above the fray,
My problems were kept at bay,
Until I crashed,
Naked and Broken,
Desperately wanting more,
More,
More,
Anything to take the pain of being me away

© Gregory J. Broderick 2017

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