Promethazine Blues

You wake at all hours of the night
shaking, convulsing, sturnal and cold
I try to cleanse myself of you
in a scolding hot shower

distant pain drops shelter your hold
in my conscious waking mind
too sensitive to hold dear
too much an artifact to hold too long

I will make it without you happily
you were a temporary hold, a left over
not seen for days, I will forget you
now, to my tired hands, warn my back up
Give me a fish to deliver to the quarantined sink
give me rainbow ash to dispose across the brook