Burning Away
I smelled the alcohol on your breath before I felt the whiskers that brushed my check as you said goodbye. I wanted to wave to you. These occasions don't require me to do anything but stare straight ahead and pretend my heart isn't breaking. Are you stopping at the next station, getting off to buy some (more) dope? Will you make it home tonight, using vodka and grape juice to stave off the last bit of sick left from five days of twitching and turning on sheets soaked with sweat. A week ago, when I unconsciously smelled your neck, it smelled like vinegar must taste when it runs through your veins and out through your pores. I loved you that day, the day you chose drugs over me. Not with any subtle motion, just the daily actions of a junkie propelled forward by the depleted emotional battery searching for a charge of life in the form of a hit. I still love you- with the slight hesitation of being attached to a shinning star that is quickly burning away. As I head in the opposit...