The Drug
The Drug
By: Honey B. Baker
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.
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