Day by Day

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life

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Arising to the stench of waste. Woken from craving the taste.

Crowds gathering, making space for the newcomer. Huddled together by the cold corner.

Blankets covering their backs, mattress on their feet. Surrounding a small space where they keep the utensils.

Tools of their making, talk about experience.

The last use of creativity, to get them through with the daily activity.

Strike a match, light the candle. Hot wax melting down, lost nerves in the hand, sturdy handle.

Their pot..

A small spoon, clean without any spots.

Their pharmacist, supplying their medication, a step closer to their frenzy medidation.

Midnight, pitch black, eyes bulging reflecting back.

The flame of the candle as it began to work. Techniques with no spills, crushing the rock.

Two or 3 pieces at a time, a steady society lready gathering in line.

Exposing forearms punctured more than a students pages, all over as if it's an epidemic thats contagious.

Addiction?

Wy past those stages, Who cares?..It's their life after all.

Wrapping a rope, constricting blood flow, In an out as the needle would go. Injecting, penetrating, releasing and ejecting

Same step for about eight cycles, limited buffet over, satisfied with the heroin itis.

Walking away with smiles on their faces, back in time on all fours, crawling back behind the dumpster where their spot is.

Most would say they hate this, saying they got choices, when you got none to live for you rhetorically answer the question of what life is.

Humming away at the stars, stress free awaiting the horizon.