The Drug

The Drug
By: Honey B. Baker

I took my first hit of you in an old creaky house...

On a cold, winter night.

But your intoxicants warmed me.

I was hooked.

Endorphins rushed.

As you entered my body, then my brain.

You were both the drug and the drug dealer.

My sickness and my healer.

Love sick.

The withdrawals after the withdrawal.

You consumed my body then my brain.

Withdrawals send me crashing back to Earth

After the endorphins ceased and the hit fluttered away.

I realized I was chasing a high that was unattainable.

The first hit was the greatest never to be seen again.

But I kept chasing.

The pattern: the jones, the hit, the high, the jones, the hit, the high.

I pray for rehab but I do not know what rehab is.

Because you are my sickness, you are the cure.

Without you I’m sick, with you I’m sick.