Keep Breathing: August 2009 (my overdose)

"Hit me big tonight,
cook men up a good one."
Giggling on the counter top,
legs swinging
pigtails
less than 90 pounds
of girl
perched;
waiting to be fed.

The green and white jumprope
with pink handles;
wrapped around my arm;
a tourniquet.

Needle in
pull back the plunger
and pray for a snake
of blood.

BINGO!
I was in.
In the vein.
In vain.

The pleasure rush
flooded my brain;
intense,
nonhuman.

On the carpet of my living room
counting the popcorn ceiling bubbles,
I told myself:
KEEP BREATHING.
My eyes were heavy,
I couldn't stop the nod.

Floating away
form my body,
my heart,
my soul.
Disconnected the brain waves
and soaring through emptiness
without feeling or emotion.

There is an emptiness
that breeds upon itself
and consumes those who
help create it.

I am the creator of emptiness
shooting drugs into my veins,
to annihilate the pain.
Anesthesia of the heart,
the locking of the mind.

I started to descend
the voice of a friend
who didn't win the battle,
against heroin,
was in my head.
Told me to turn around;
it wasn't my time.

There was a loud vibration;
a roar in my ears
crushing my soul back into my body.
I could feel my lungs begin to pulse;
I gasped.
Eyes flew open.
The sound of breathing over took my ears.

I was living.
I had a pulse.
A heart beat.

My existence had returned.