Joseph Fulkerson

Coagulated

It’s surprising the things you find
out about yourself at 3 o’clock
in the morning
lying on the living room floor
head spinning with drink
mind racing with regret,
wanting so desperately to send
that message, yet knowing it’s
inviting the devil back in
granting the succubus access
to my vital organs once more,
like the drag of the needle
tracing silhouettes of angels
wings down my arm, veins
clouding with the junk of us.

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