Neon glow sticks illuminated
liquor bottles lining the upper
cabinets in the dark loft. Progressive
House blasted the stereo while
cigarette smoke licked my nostrils.

Rolled up bills, chalked up
cards and delicate white lines
littered the granite island.

This was our euphoric lair.

Numb-nosed laughter
and witty sarcasm
diminished prior years
of emotional misery and
inspired artificial vanity.

Coke-induced anxiety
was muted by more lines.
More lines meant more
hard alcohol, more
useless conversation, more
casual *** with friends…
and more lines.
More didn’t stop until
there was no more.

We spent
endless nights holed up
in that city loft,
inhaling flakes of dust
while popping nameless pills.

But our souls were

s
              h
     a
                   t
                           t
         e
                                   r
                   e
  d
          g
   l
                   a
                                  s
              s

Hours spent together
like this tricked each of us
into deceitful intimacy
and false devotion.

We were strangers
with the same intentions-
to sedate our pains with
pleasure and poison.

Drugs. ***. Alcohol. Music.

That’s all it was.

A pursuit of counterfeit
fulfillments yielding
temporary highs-
exploits that never
made us whole.

Five years later,
slivers of glass still
linger on that city loft’s floor…

But you won’t find
my pieces abandoned there.

.: hayley ann kal :.