In a matter of months,
Mike had turned squirrely.
Disheveled & *****,
he would pace around
as if he was being tracked by the NSA,
scratch the invisible insects off his arms,
pick at the sores on his dried lips.
His words came out gibberish,
he made no sense.

I remembered a time
not too long ago,
when he was coherent,
bright & articulate,
a spark burned in his eyes.

Now, he seemed
like a comatose
paranoid zombie,
mindless,
with rotting teeth.

Once it grabs you by the *****,
crystal works that quick,
the pipe-craving
hits you non-stop,
makes you sick.