its that sound I know so well, the sound of a lighter. the wheel turning hitting the flint making the scratch right before the click combined with a gust of gas and then the sound of the flame... deep breath hold it in, wait a second and let go.
they think they know me, he makes random jabs about my memories and what I smoke, I don’t think in his repressed mindset he could ever understand. how do you feel when you wake in the morning? tired, excited... alive? something right... when I wake the only feeling I know at all is pain it cuts me, a cold chill running through my veins into my bones and crippling me. I wake wiping tears from my face and limp into the bathroom. with some amount of effort I manage to raise my left arm up enough grab my bottle of pills and stick one in my mouth. its a low grade narcotic the doctors prescribed to help me live a normal life. and I do, I wake I go to work I come home I make diner, rinse and repeat. at about 3 o'clock everyday my morning pill wears off, I’d take another but then I would have 20-30 minuets of uselessness while I am two doped up to much to do anything other than to think look. shinny. so from 3-6 I hold back the tears and stand and smile while I feel like death, I don’t know if they will read this but I know they have no idea.
so I get home, I retreat to my room I crawl under my blankets and I make the call.
"hello, yes... I’m home now will you come over?
and then enter stage left my knight in tattered blue jeans and a black hoodie, he will bend over kiss my forehead pack up a nice one and hand me the lighter, today it was black. my sweet laudanum turned solid. it fills my room as it bellows out from my lungs, the sweet intoxicating smell.. I close my eyes he pours me a glass of water he brings it to me, I’m all ready asleep. I sleep for about 30 minuets, I wake and then go on about my evening the sweet flower coursing through me still. you cant get pure here, not in the whole of the state its less potent than the meds the doctors give me, less damaging to my kidney in the long run and more effective. I do this not for the euphoria, but to function.
don’t get me wrong there are lots of drugs I do to escape reality. I drink to escape, I game to escape, I have sex to escape, I smoke weed to escape but these things I do less often than I let on to. half the time I say I have been drinking to explain why I am so slow when in reality I have simply self medicated. and its not every day I self medicate... only on the bad ones, only on the ones where my flesh burns, my bones ake and my soul wavers only on those days do I make the call....
I worry sometimes that they will all find out, I worry they would treat me different, be more careful with me if they knew how very breakable I am. I worry that they will see this and wonder what it is I am hiding, why it is I am in so much pain all the time, I worry one day I will have to explain my self, be honest about why I’ll never have kids or take a husband. tell them why I indulge my self now in the ways I do, I worry someone will notice I don’t want this life, I worry I’ll notice I just want to be average, normal... I worry to much.
its time for my night time pills.. its time to sleep so I can wake. this day like every other day has to end as the last so the next can end the same... maybe tomorrow I will not need my sweet opium
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