Meewella | Artist

Zen and the Art of P

His Perfect Drug

He asks me the same little favour
Swallowing my pride once again
Let him escape the world through me
But what if the cost is my pain?

We go through the usual motions
But we both know where it will end
Quietly preparing myself
Till I see him begin to descend.

Clothes stripped away, sharply
Love means nothing here
It’s him breaking free of his life
Trapping me, holds me near.

Letting him lose himself inside me
I feel like his perfect drug
Hard thrusts, rubbing, rough hands
No tenderness or a hug.

When it’s over, he’ll roll over, spent
I’ll be kissed, thanked, cast aside
He’s so warm and cold at once
Never even noticed I cried.

I want to help him, I care
But isn’t there some other way
Or maybe this really is best
Can’t get through with all that I say

But I still can’t shake the feeling
That I must be something more
Than a pile of crumpled clothes
Lying, crushed, upon the floor.

© 2002 Priyan “Phoenix” Meewella

the only poem I’ve written from a female perspective.


  1. Jeffery Henderson

    24 February 2007 at 3:07 am

    Again, Meewella, I applaud this valiant attempt to occupy the female psyche.

  2. Jeffery Henderson

    1 March 2007 at 8:13 pm

    Meewella, a thought/question:

    Does this poem take its inspiration from the Nine Inch Nails piece of titular identicality?
    If so, I, with renewed vigour, applaud your efforts!

    I often ponder to whom and about whom Mr Trent Rezor Esquire writes his agonised, exquisite compositions. I presume you are a fanatic.

  3. |[P]|

    1 March 2007 at 8:19 pm

    Although the piece itself was not inspired by Nine Inch Nails, that is indeed where the title comes from.

    I am a fan of Trent Reznor’s music and a more direct reference to them is found in “All That Could Have Been”.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.


"It’s not what you look at that matters, it’s what you see."

© 2004-2023 Priyan Meewella

Up ↑