The drive
From Orange County to Los Angeles
Had never been so long.

Broken wipers
Black drugs
Psychotic episodes
Wet roads
And

“This is it.”
(I thought)
“I’m going to die this way.”

High
Too thin
Frightened
And
Without a Home

He continues to speed North
Trying to get his emotions to go South
And I’m frozen in the passenger seat

I smell of dirt
***
And blood

Spiraling into the abyss
I tried to remember his eyes
Inside the elevator

I stared his way,
But only the drugs gawked back

I prayed to a God I’d never seen
Begging to be saved from
My own decisions.

The demons pounded on the van
Some more
They weren’t going to rest
Tonight.

Tonight
We were dressed in black
The van shrouded in it
Tonight
We belonged to them

“This is it”

I inhaled the fumes

And surrendered.