"Red/Yellow"

Red

Hungry like a high teen,
craving and clawing at any type of it,
I can get it, oh so easily, like a good fuck (in the back of a truck).
It's red as it burns open my stomach, in my fucking head,
I've never known any other type of hunger before.
An ache in my fingers when I try to grasp it,
steaming up like gas from my mouth when I inhale,
a huff and a puff some kind of beautiful high.
My bloated head leans on the cold of a strangers car window,
the hum of a drum connecting to the rap on the radio,
the street lights blurry as they drove.
The danger, the danger of being taken somewhere by a stranger,
not knowing, never knowing if I will die or live.
How many more shots can I drink,
how long until the weed bombs my brain,
how much blood can I lose before I die?
The red, it's adrenaline, danger, risk, and I fucking crave it.

Yellow

Heart thinner than most due to starvation,
a watery substance of blood and hope,
hardly bright light in the center of my soul.
Weary eyelids sore from staying open so long at night,
stars burning down like a beacon or flashlight,
the yellow mumble of a stream wrapped around my ankles.
An ocean that I seemed to drown myself in,
fading light getting farther and farther away it seemed,
some kind of majestic God I've never really had.
The yellow is death proof and lives on until I cease to exist,
it's all I don't have in life,
here in the deadly life I can't see,
covered in fog like sick mental illness.
The yellow is happiness, joy, fulfillment and I need it.