Mother Night Revisited

Biting through tongues and foaming at mouths.
Splicing together what will not pan out.
Wax works wonders for bitter pills.
Yet vials and spoons seem better still.
Trade all the lines that you cut in for all the hours spent blacked out
and shivering into mother night again.
Trade all your needles in for all the sleep you’ve missed.
As much as you can get.
She’ll tuck you into pitch.