white 6-17-08
I hold a mirror coated in white and on my thigh lies both straw and blade. I've ground and chopped, fined it up.
I sit here starring at it. I'm waiting for my own reaction. Desire? Revulsion? Need? Desperate Need?
They say a needle junkie won't stop, can't stop, once the needle is filled. You go that far and you just don't go back. You don't lay the needle down, not once you're there.
Do I lay down the mirror? The straw? The blade?
The powder? Do I dust it to the floor?
I've gone this far... how much further will I go?
I look at myself through the powder. Isn't that how I always look at myself? Through the powder?
Eyes glazed, pupils dilated, skin dulled... grey. I'm so grey.
I drag my finger tip across the mirror and watch the white scatter like a snow flurry. I slip my finger between my lips and dust my gums down. Clean, pure... no taste quite like it. I shuffle it back into a huge pile and I bend down above it. I breathe it in.
I've gone this far, how much further will I go?
God how much further will I go?
It doesn't matter I've already gone this far. You don't lay the needle down, no not once its filled. You just don't lay the needle down.
The mirror cracks, shattering as it hits the floor. Blood sprays across the floor, coating the walls, soaking the bed.
It doesn't matter I've already gone this far. You don't lay the needle down, no not once its filled. You just don't lay the needle down.
I sit here starring at it. I'm waiting for my own reaction. Desire? Revulsion? Need? Desperate Need?
They say a needle junkie won't stop, can't stop, once the needle is filled. You go that far and you just don't go back. You don't lay the needle down, not once you're there.
Do I lay down the mirror? The straw? The blade?
The powder? Do I dust it to the floor?
I've gone this far... how much further will I go?
I look at myself through the powder. Isn't that how I always look at myself? Through the powder?
Eyes glazed, pupils dilated, skin dulled... grey. I'm so grey.
I drag my finger tip across the mirror and watch the white scatter like a snow flurry. I slip my finger between my lips and dust my gums down. Clean, pure... no taste quite like it. I shuffle it back into a huge pile and I bend down above it. I breathe it in.
I've gone this far, how much further will I go?
God how much further will I go?
It doesn't matter I've already gone this far. You don't lay the needle down, no not once its filled. You just don't lay the needle down.
The mirror cracks, shattering as it hits the floor. Blood sprays across the floor, coating the walls, soaking the bed.
It doesn't matter I've already gone this far. You don't lay the needle down, no not once its filled. You just don't lay the needle down.