we are all rotting

yesterday at work i kept having flashbacks of the trailer where they died, and my boyfriend (at the time) bashing me against the wall, screaming at me that we had to get out WE HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE, GIRL, BEFORE THE COPS COME.

before the cops come. and discover the bodies. our friends bodies. our dead friends. dead. friends. bodies.

cops.

and then he slammed me into the wall again. i was so high but i moved my ass out of that trailer.

we never looked back. we didn’t read the papers or watch the news for a long time after that. we didn’t answer the phone unless it was our dealer(s) calling. we didn’t go out except to score drugs. we got high. we got higher. we got high. that’s all we did.

i miss them. so now i’m getting high. because remembering them isn’t something i can do without breaking into a million pieces.

i am so, so sorry. i’m sorry you died and i just watched. i’m sorry i was too busy preparing my shot and shooting up to notice that you had stopped being alive.

tomorrow i’m going to go score and then i’m gonna use. so i don’t have to remember the hurt and feel the pain.

i’ve lost so many people, so many friends, to drugs, eating disorders, suicide, car wrecks, or something else. i even lost a few fetuses, my damaged and worthless body rejecting them. but it doesn’t matter what they died from, it matters that they are dead and i want them back but they are in the stars and the dirt now. stars and dirt. that’s all i’ve got left. they are rotting. and so am i. a rotting, gutted out junkie.

at least i can escape for now. i slam that shit, into my veins, and i can escape. i just always have to come back. i don’t die. i’ve done so much to myself, i’ve vomited and starved my body to 59lbs, i’ve shot up so much heroin and meth, and i am still alive. it’s exhausting. but it’s just something that i have accepted. i continue to live for the people i love that can not live any more.

i’m so sorry. i’m not living very well in your memory. i still love you guys, forever.