Thursday, January 25, 2018

Dear Heroin User

Coming through here again was like putting my hand on a hot stove for a second time. First time small burn, second time, the skin peeled off. Yeah. It is that time to reflect. No amount of money will ever take away the fact that you sir, are not a good resource for me. I hope you like heroin as much as you like prison. Locked away in your own thoughts....

 You think you know what you're doing. But I know better.

I know being resentful is a stresser. But honestly, it brings me satisfaction to watch it burn in front of my face. like a slow ember burning leaves on a cool autumn day. Die you little fucker, please don't bring flies to my door.

Her mouth is a gaping worm hole as her fingers text me with sarcasm and belittlement. Her fear is so strong I can smell it from miles away. Her tears are as dry as her veins which she shoots with heroin. And you are her escape with a bundle of powdered joy. For every needle you give and the stabs to my heart will forever be your demise.

Good riddance to you. Your smile now holds an empty darkened space where a set of pearly whites once resided. The demons you tried so hard to ridden of are now your best friends, they tickle you at night, don't they? Your skin is now paled and ashen, the similarity of you and Edward Cullen is definitely visible. Do you sparkle in the light, cold one?

When you seek warmth, does the bundles of powdered death make you forget how alone you really are in your parent's basement of solitude and resentment?

1. Self-loathing is your best trait, no love given there.

2. With ever penny your mother earns is now thrown on a spoon and cooked straight into your arteries. No love given there.

3. Lies come naturally, like breathing. No remorse for the contradictory statements you have made. Yeah, no love given there.

4. When you say, "I love you" you mean the juice, right? The one that flows through you as your loved ones cry at night in their beds and wondering why they are left with a burden of guilt for a self indulgence you chose for your own pleasure and leisure. No love given there.

So please, don't wonder why I did not come to your awake or grave burial. I already said, R.I.P when you chose the heroin over me. I already said, R.I.P when I laid alone at night crying myself to sleep when you chose another junkie who was married, to share your drug induced binges with and made her your special princess. So again, R.I.P.