this is something my friend wrote. read even if you think drugs are bad.- - - - - - - - - - -
This is a poem I wrote about dope.
marya asked me
how doing dope makes me feel,
welli'vealwayslikedneedles
and all i can say is,
pull off the tourniquet,
katiereachesbruisyhandsbackintime
and all i can think is
"oh, thank god"
painisafunctionofloveifi'velearnedanythingaboutself
destructionandithinkihave
the real ones mean it when they talk
about first love
andmyshrinkshrinksinhorrorwhenitellhim
i was late because we got
spotted by 5-0 and i
shoved six bags up my cunt
hewenttoitalytofindoutsomethingabouthisfather
and the blood never bothers me,
but the rashes do.
"oh, thank god"
part 2.
now abstinence is the word of the hour
and absence makes the body grow...
the injunction of destiny, i infer conspiratorial.
andallofthisjustmakesmethink
what would it be like to be onething or another?
k and i and j
(whoislostinthewisconsinsystemofantiabuseabusesaytooneanotherindreams
andonthetelephoneourtimesofdeathmappedoutinmarkingsand)
how short a time it takes to refer to things as
"hindsight"
eyelidkissesand
blind
sight