Pleading with the Devil

It's fun to have a secret sometimes--to nurse and enjoy, knowing a private joke that's all yours. Doing H is now my secret, my little personal free fall into the void. I've only done a little H out on the east coast--powder, not the Mexican Tar out in the west. Smoking it and water railing it (mixing it in a needless syringe and shooting it up my nose) tasted like how i imagine catpiss would taste.

L said he liked the taste. I imagine it's just a reaction to the euphoria that rolls around his brain right after it hits the back of his tongue.

It wasn't that good a hit. But I can't stop thinking about it. It reminded me a lot of morphine, that thick viscous high, that sucks me down into the couch, shuts my eyes, and fills me with apathy. It reminded me of shooting oxy as s 16 year old, the euphoria never being that amazing, but my brain learning to crave it--filling me with unforgettable lust.

Im consumed by desire, want, need.

I don't know how someone could take opiates and not feel this way. I watch them pick up their RXs and I just after each one, as I imagine they must. But I somehow they don't care. Is my mind so fucked up or is theirs?

I don't have an answer, just my own fear of feeling the void surrounding me once more.

The naloxone is stashed in my drawer, waiting for the day I fulfill my destiny and return back to nothingness. I don't worry about my own fate, just the pain of those around me.

What the fuck am I doing?

I'm scared I'll test positive on Wednesday at my pain management appointment. Please god don't let him test me. I don't want to go back to endless pain or the embarrassment of having to take suboxone/methadone at the pharmacy.

Please let me just get this one by the doctor and I won't fuck up again.

I'm pleading,

Lucy

Chasing the Dragon around the Kitchen

I was better at chasing it on the tin foil than B was. We both kept swapping between lighting and chasing, as my fingers burned holding it trying to angle it downwards.

I said fuck this, not high enough! Like a toddler who hasn't gotten the right flavor of lollypop. 

I added water to the big spoon my grandparents once used to serve up mashed potatoes--now a charred up heroin spoon. I held the flame away from it, watching it bubble but not boil. Using the syringes, the sliptip needle pulled off, I sucked up the remnants. I pulled back the plunger and watched the shit colored water fill the barrel.

Ducking into the bathroom, I got down on my knees and slipped the it into my asshole. It didn't hurt, it didn't burn like the coke had 3 years ago. I pushed down until there was nothing left.

Coming out of there, I felt R and Bs eyes watching me as I laid down on the couch. Now L was there too, getting his 1/2 gram I had picked up for him.

I felt fucked up. I felt high like I had done a ton of morphine and was now melting out of existence. My artheiric pain melted away leaving me content. I curled up on the couch so B could sit down.

He and L had water lined it--cooking it up to shoot up their noses. It made me gag after trying it, that cat piss taste at the back of my throat.

I probably plugged 1/5th of a gram--not embarrassed at the stigma of shoving a syringe up my ass, better than in my arm.

Every time my eyes would close I'd here "Lucy!" As I nodded off. Only to open them and see the 3 of them in front of the kitchen staring at me--scared I had ODd.

R was so depressed, hopeless watching me as I fell into a deep sleep. The oxymorphone and heroin pushing my eyes closed.

His brother got out of detox from h on Friday. I was the reminder that R could never escape h, and the pull it had on the people around him. I was his wife which was becoming a casualty of the opioid epidemic across the country. I was becoming another statistic.

I'm scared I'll come up positive for it in 2 days for my drug test although it'll be 3 days since I did it by then. Sunday morning was the last part I plugged and then I could be tested on Wednesday. I feel like I will be.

But what happens happens, and I'll have to live with the consequences. I am a fuck up, what can I say!?

Love you,

Lucy

Black Tar Dreams

Waiting outside the Twin Liquors right now, the car is hot and close, but I won't open the window. Excitement in the pit of my stomach mixes with a tinge of guilt and shame.

R is off getting a bottle of liquor and meeting up with Lee. That's all it takes to get a 19 year old to cop dope for you.

The patter of rain drops starts to mix in with the cars driving through the shopping center--law abiding citizens with no idea about the shadowy dealings in the parking lot.