deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Heroin Epidemic
They’re dropping like
bags of wet cement
everywhere I turn
One by one
they’re falling
off the train
independently
yet as a whole
back into the epidemic
that plagues our city
It’s raining needles
all around me
tearing through my shelter
as I dodge and weave
through the chaos
surrounding me
He’s rolling
down a hill
picking up
momentum
while attempting
to stomp
on the brakes
before the
inevitable crash
She dabbles
here and there
knowing that
she’s kissing
a demon
wanting more
and less
concurrently
hating him
and loving him
whilst deceiving herself
into believing
that he won’t
rape her soul
I pray for them both
whilst
battling my own
demons and devils
raining from the
darkened clouds
within the
diseased syringes
Yet that’s just
the beginning
as all matters
of death
and destruction
seem to come in threes
Prayer
doesn’t cut it
nor does
talk therapy
or congregation
with my people
These things
ease my mind
but don’t cure
the overwhelming
fears within
The third is not
just a fellow trudger
on the road
to happy
or unhappy
destiny
nor is she
just a friend
She’s the angel
sent from the
heavens to
redeem my
floundering soul
She’s the sister
that I never had
Her heart and spirit
a mirror image
of mine
and her
assets and
shortcomings
all the same
She’s my
Gemini twin
hence my
overwhelming
fears for
her safety
for her
life
For those with
the curse
like her and I
there is no halfway
there is no dabbling
there is no chipping
There are no more
hills to roll down or
waters to test
It’s a free fall
off a cliff
only to be broken
by death
or the grace
of God
As I sit here
I reminisce
on the events
of three months back
The near death
infections
the hospital bed
the sickness
the powerlessness
I think of her
two weeks later
the visit which was
the spiritual catalyst
for my broken soul
that catapulted me
into an enlightened
state of spirit
like never before
Three months removed
from a fix
and feeling alone
as if I’m the only
junkie in Chicago
without a needle
piercing their flesh
on this cool
November day
I’m at ease
with the lonesome
thoughts and feelings
I’m okay with
lacking the insanity
that surrounds me
as I am at peace
in the calm
of the hurricane’s eye
whilst continuing
to pray
and reach out to
the man
rolling
down the hill
the woman
testing
the waters
and the fallen angel
who saved me
from myself
bags of wet cement
everywhere I turn
One by one
they’re falling
off the train
independently
yet as a whole
back into the epidemic
that plagues our city
It’s raining needles
all around me
tearing through my shelter
as I dodge and weave
through the chaos
surrounding me
He’s rolling
down a hill
picking up
momentum
while attempting
to stomp
on the brakes
before the
inevitable crash
She dabbles
here and there
knowing that
she’s kissing
a demon
wanting more
and less
concurrently
hating him
and loving him
whilst deceiving herself
into believing
that he won’t
rape her soul
I pray for them both
whilst
battling my own
demons and devils
raining from the
darkened clouds
within the
diseased syringes
Yet that’s just
the beginning
as all matters
of death
and destruction
seem to come in threes
Prayer
doesn’t cut it
nor does
talk therapy
or congregation
with my people
These things
ease my mind
but don’t cure
the overwhelming
fears within
The third is not
just a fellow trudger
on the road
to happy
or unhappy
destiny
nor is she
just a friend
She’s the angel
sent from the
heavens to
redeem my
floundering soul
She’s the sister
that I never had
Her heart and spirit
a mirror image
of mine
and her
assets and
shortcomings
all the same
She’s my
Gemini twin
hence my
overwhelming
fears for
her safety
for her
life
For those with
the curse
like her and I
there is no halfway
there is no dabbling
there is no chipping
There are no more
hills to roll down or
waters to test
It’s a free fall
off a cliff
only to be broken
by death
or the grace
of God
As I sit here
I reminisce
on the events
of three months back
The near death
infections
the hospital bed
the sickness
the powerlessness
I think of her
two weeks later
the visit which was
the spiritual catalyst
for my broken soul
that catapulted me
into an enlightened
state of spirit
like never before
Three months removed
from a fix
and feeling alone
as if I’m the only
junkie in Chicago
without a needle
piercing their flesh
on this cool
November day
I’m at ease
with the lonesome
thoughts and feelings
I’m okay with
lacking the insanity
that surrounds me
as I am at peace
in the calm
of the hurricane’s eye
whilst continuing
to pray
and reach out to
the man
rolling
down the hill
the woman
testing
the waters
and the fallen angel
who saved me
from myself
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