Ten milligrams of Hydrocodone seep their way into my bloodstream, and finally I am at peace with myself. I feel my brain sink low and my eyes open wide and I sit and I stare at the world. And I am happy.
I watch intently as fallen stars walk past me, every day, and I wonder if anyone else notices.
I put fire to a bowl full of escape and cowardice and inhale deeply. I cough and my eyes water and I welcome both. I feel my problems slip back behind slammed doors and I laugh because my friend drops her lighter. I am stupid. Stupid, and happy.
I am sitting awake at 2:30 A.M. and I am altered, yet again. I cannot sleep again, because my brain is wound and I can't let go of this pen. Sleep is foreign and unwelcome but I will doze off soon. I look exactly like those people mom pointed out as warnings, right now.
There is one person who honestly has my best interests in mind, who would never condone my behavior if it meant my priorities would be construed. One person. And he lives hundreds of miles away. And when he sees me again, it will be too late to save me.
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