Posted in Poetry

The Cleansing

Insomnia
will pass on
like a spirit
to the
underworld

Playing with
myself to
nullify the
absence
of touch

Using my arm
as an ashtray
wrapped up
in white sheets
that once held
your scent
now reek of
burning flesh

Playing fast
on this old
blue guitar
I’m three
songs away
from finishing
this set

Living my way
is a deserted
path of
identical
footsteps

After the
detoxification
of filthy
parasitic drugs

This little
departure
should be
easier than
a cam-girl
and clean
as a virgin

© Michael Marrotti

This poem is from my chapbook entitled, F.D.A. Approved Poetry. Get it here for a friends price: https://www.amazon.com/F-D-Approved-Poetry-Michael-Marrotti/dp/153907577X/ref=la_B01LXO8AQY_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1475811325&sr=1-1