traceyh415

Being involved in harm reduction for 19 years, I have had a long ride of highs and lows. I have seen individuals get their children back, only to relapse and leave them at daycare. I have seen the mostly hopeless of drug user get their life together. I have seen someone hit in their neck and die of a brain aneurysm. I have seen multiple people emerge from prison to later obtain nursing degrees. I have seen two friends die on dialysis at 34 years old. They both used to shoot in their ports. I have seen people leave the streets to find love and happiness. I could go on and on with pairs of the agony and the joys of working with active users. It is the kind of stuff that nourishes the soul. Alternatively, I have spent many sleepless nights worrying about thing cannot change. Death doesn't come this close to me very often. Both my parents have passed on. The vast majority of people I used with have passed on. There just isn't much of an inner circle left. My friend of 25 years wa...

The junkie girl, "sleeping" in the sun Stretching out her legs Blocking the sidewalk (ever so slightly) Choking on the sympathy of strangers. Her hair is a bit knotted Her skin is a little bit gray You will never speak to her There is nothing you can say. She is the discarded flower With her beauty quickly fading No longer the object of desire Out in the rain- waiting. Burnt out- like ash from a cigarette Used up- like a cotton. Out of sight. Out of mind. Out of money. Out of time. Addicted.

There is a pain that creeps through my body. A jolt like electricity has let me know I pushed this in a little too far. I pull back my hand in agony. There is a fire burning, like stepping on raw sand on a thousand hot days. Searing the flesh in between my fingers where I dared to sew myself to the bed with a barbed needle. Why is this happening to me dear Jesus. I gave myself just enough time for this joy to reach my receptive brain. I want to feel the rapture that comes when you embrace me and forgive me for all the sins I am about to commit. There is no past. There is no present. There is no future. There is only the moment when I push the needle in. All my bills that are past due can wait until I see you. But this isn't me. Isn't me anymore- right? I'm not laying on the bed with my headphones on, dreaming about the drugs. Skating the line between life and death ended long ago. Now, I worry about spreadsheets, Easter baskets, and wonder if they have the full size lipst...

“I don’t really want to talk about what is going on with me…”  I reach for a glass of water. I need a prop to keep going. Something to hold on to that is going to keep me grounded. My mind loves to find the chaos in the silver lining. I like to find the one frayed string on a beautiful dress. I pull on it until the fabric falls apart. Then, I blame myself for trying.  Why do I even care what is going on outside of my nuclear family? I would not dare say this outloud. This would be far too healthy of a declaration. That is the kind of thing I need to keep to myself. I mean we all should care about the world around us but I can’t let go of “the things I cannot change”. Many days I feel like a little child at the foot of my father’s lazy boy recliner wondering what I can do to get this man to stop drinking. A child feeling responsible for the actions of a grown man! Isn’t that a fucking sad statement.  “Are you done here?” the waitress is trying to clear our table. “Yes,” he...