Morpheus

[Leanne]

Memories -
bottled delusions
tumbling into my blood
down funnels of glass. -- I find this just the slightest bit trite. Considering audiences though, maybe it does need to be this obvious.

Their honeycomb doses
hold hook fittings -- I'm not entirely sure if this is over-alliterated but I think maybe... the "h" sound is a hard one to repeat without a harshness that doesn't quite sit with the "greasy" image in the next line.
and they’re greasy, with ‘Daily’
screaming from the label.

I take them; morning morphs to
evening, enervated, sleepy, -- love the sounds in this strophe, particularly the shifting "e" assonance
and you're still
near.

I crave that opiate,
putrescence slipped into me
disguised. Then I realize: 
You are not
that I am. -- I am... putrescence?  Ouch.  Or is this a callback to still near? Both work, and actually have a similar effect to my reading. 

Much to like here.  Considering the title, I would have really liked more contrast between light/dark, black/white.  Though the mimicry is definitely present. But then, you know I'm a cheap mythology whore