I will admit
to overdosing them
with sweet beguiling
slippery softener
‘till dead at my feet
they can rise
no more.
Yet they cling to me
as they can
with a ghastly
screaming need
for me to pull
them up.
Yes, once
I had a pair of normal socks.
PROMPT 3: Partly ___________.
Enclosed within the span
my arms can touch,
my eyes are closed
to effort of standing.
There are no rubber grips
beneath my slippery feet.
Naked vulnerability exposed,
I step out into my morning
pushing aside condensation
till drops cry down my arm.
Through my veil of Vicodin,
I’m only partly afraid to live.