I've never actually posted an explanation for any of my poems, I don't think. As my girlfriend has pointed out to me about several of my pieces, "art is subjective". Indeed it is. However, I never realized, until recently, how open my stuff was to interpretation.
It seems this poem has been interpreted as a bittersweet love poem. Several people expressed empathy for me because of that. I thank you for that.
However, this time I feel compelled to share with you a response I wrote to one of my readers. For ease of use I've also pasted here that same poem again. I do this so that you may reread it after this explanation and look at it from a different perspective. Hopefully you'll still like it. Ideally it'll touch some of you more deeply and you'll share the message I think it'll better convey after this explanation....
I know "art" is subjective and everyone interprets it a different way. What I found interesting, though, is that so far everyone has interpreted it as "this is about a girl".
What makes that interesting to me is that that's not how it was intended. This was the final thoughts of someone dying from a drug overdose.
You see, we all have our own "demons" to deal with. Some people turn to drugs to cope and slowly succumb to that darkness until it overtakes them. Personally, I've never had that issue but I thought this might be what runs through someone's mind as the light slowly left their eyes. This was initially titled "Slipping Away"....
Once upon a time I was young, naive and so alive
I was in love with the day and yearned for the night
Then came your kiss
A bitter cold like the air just before the first snows arrive
A sensation too intoxicating for me to fight
There was your kiss
Spoiling my innocence, purity and dreams
Corrupting my soul and eroding my confidence
With that kiss
Stealing my breath and stifling my screams
Knowing full well that I have no means of defense
Against your kiss
Once was not enough and it draws me back for more
How do I escape this; how can I ever live again
Aching for that kiss
If only I'd known what evils you had in store
Or what hell would befall me for commission of my sin
For tasting Death's arsenic kiss