Static's Sting
Unseen Drift and Decay

Sizzling sparks of constant current
Pain laced with fear in our error
A sudden retreat in one swift moment
Fear of death alights our terror
Again and again we feel its sting
Continue putting hand to its ionic flow
Each numbing instance, a tethering string
Danger doesn’t sink in, though
On and on, a returning addict
To its favorite drug of choice
Lying to itself about the verdict
The drug has taken the addict’s voice
Smells of singed flesh and propriety
Do not deter the need for more
Denial feeding the want for satiety
No way to close this open door
When wind blows in and through
It can’t be removed or chased out
The rush of air blew in and grew
To gusty gales, this seed had sprouts
Seedling roots digging ever deeper
Weeds never to be eradicated
A growing, feeding creeper
Where had this pest originated?
A glance, a visual enticement
Sensations ignited; the die was cast
Each time, a little more for that same excitement
Until its unrelenting grip was vast
No longer foreign to thought or practice
Assimilating into familiar normality
The host no longer feels its malice
What a cunning modality
Here, just one more won’t hurt at all
Everyone does it, the lie concedes
Desire feeds, the need, the poisons crawl
It stings, grips, seeps, burying its seeds
Initially, the static is an annoying sound
Ringing the ears, a constant abhorrence
You listen longer, becoming bound
Losing your humanity, a little consequence
No matter what the fault in society
Be it disdain, hostility, or degradation
Addiction, ideology, or impropriety
It all starts with one little aberration
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About the Creator
Alexandra Grant
Inked Stories That Leave a Mark. I write essays, stories, and poetry, sharing my life experiences and lessons, keeping it real and raw. I'll bare my soul to those who have experienced similar things, so they know they are not alone.
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