****** Leaves My System
Others — white and dark —
Order their coffee in environmental mugs.
You don’t get stars,
Only reused syringes.
****** leaves as joy —
A nub with no shadow.
Trauma’s shadow is bright white
In my pipe.
Who says addicts are unclean?
I scrape my pipe and cooker,
Shockingly clean.
I don’t get anything.
UC tomorrow —
Do you sleep sound?
The rush — excitement.
Why wrap so tight?
Don’t break the crack in the pipe.
Sounds like joy.
Smoke fills my lungs.
Yet I get nothing.
In burning light,
Where was my life?
Vapor fills the room.
Oh, there’s a feeling —
I’m content.
How about you?
Could you ***** yourself a hundred times
Just to feel a little?
Stop — there’s blood in the needle.
You think an ****** is good?
You’ve never seen blood mixed with life in a needle.
Trust me — don’t try.
You miss all the shots you don’t take.
Ones you don’t take can’t **** you.
I wish they would —
The ones that hit hurt more than the ones that miss.
Well, ask him:
******, needle, arm —
The true holy trinity.
Just ask Jesus —
Blood of Christ, blood of an addict,
Redeem me.
Needle exchange —
Well, I need a life exchange.
Maybe something sharper.
Sorry, I meant to say spare change.
