Morphine Melody

Unsaid words well up and sting my eyes.
I just want to forget.

I start the steady morphine melody drip,
one note at a time,
one song sustaining my heartbeat.

The pain is there, the twist in my heart.
The tug of phantom pain on my hand that itches for you.

Sometimes a line blurs it all out.
A handful of words that slip into my bloodstream and put me to sleep.
And sometimes, it lets me forget.

Sometimes the drug doesn't work,
It just paints the pain in vibrant colors.
But I let it pierce my ear and then my mind and last my heart,
drowning in the sound of forgetting you.
Without ever forgetting you at all.

Almost Midnight

It's almost midnight and I'm choking on how much I hate you.
It's clawing its way up my throat, screaming to be set free.
It's burning everything away from the inside out.
It's filling up my lungs like tar, clogging them and suffocating me.
All I can hear are the lies, all I see is your smile and the hiding daggers in your eyes.
It's almost midnight and I can't breathe because of you,
because of all you've done to me.
The way you broke me, the way you lied, the way you got my hopes up.
It's taking up too much space and I can't think straight anymore.
It's almost midnight and I can't help but hate you for who you turned out to be.

Hunger (from October daily prompt)

Desire gnaws at me like hunger.
It's painful.  Unavoidable.  Persistent.  Deadly.
It wrenches my stomach and pounds against my head.
It makes me dizzy.  It makes me sick.
It's far beyond the mild craving I once felt; the one I could live without.  This, however, is nothing like that.  That craving was uncomfortable, but it would pass.  All I had to do was wait the feeling out.  But I waited out too many cravings and now I need it.
It's no longer uncomfortable but achingly necessary.  I can feel the weakness and fatigue settling into my bones.  Without you, I can only go on for so long before I start falling apart.
The twinge in my chest is all consuming, threatening my existence.  It'll start there; the failure of my vital organs.
First my heart that broke will give out for good.
Then my voice that cried for you for too long.
Next my eyes, over dried, long run out of tears will fail me.
Last the hands that've been too far from yours for too long.
All that is left is a shattered, paper-mache skeleton, fragile and empty because you starved me out of myself.