The End of Love

Lisa Renee, once one of my best friends,  my lover, the reason I had to give a fuck shattered my heart and carved her name deeply into my soul, so deeply that several years from now the wound will continue to bleed.

Hurt beyond all logic and sense of reason I stole her backpack with her laptop and tablet inside from the motel before leaving. She it's sure it was me but can't prove it. I've been at Casey's, or across the way at my homie Claytons place, getting high as a giraffe pussy since she told me it was over yesterday.

My veins are collapsing, I'm dehydrated, and can only get a shot after hours of unsuccessful digging for a small portion of good vein. My belt has a new hole in it already, and I'm a depressed train wreck.

She says she needs to better her life, that I'm not going anywhere. I was trying, but it's hard to get a job or anything when you have to hustle all day just to make sure you have a motel room for the night and cigarettes food and drugs for two people plus whoever decided to linger around on that particular day.

She can say whatever she wants, both of us know that she wanted the dope every bit as much as I did. It's just easier to blame me for her addiction than to take an honest look within herself.

I'm broke, I've been fucking Casey for her dope since the night Lisa left, but Casey can be kinda stingy with what she gives out and I've got a high tolerance and an overwhelming need to run from reality.

This morning I listened to Lisa's favorite Yellawolf song with tears running down my face as I dug around in my arm with a hypodermic needle searching for a useable vein. I finally got it two hours later.

My high is already going away, and I've got to wait for Clayton to return so I can get my backpack out of his place and go try and panhandle. I've been selling lots of fake dope too and there's allot of people that aren't happy with me.

I guess this is how it's going to end, either dead from an overdose or a pissed off meth head, or locked up for distribution of methamphetamine. Another too common story of a lovesick junkie, destroyed by his own demons.