things aren't so bad

** warning - graphic language **

this is one of the most truthful, compelling pieces of writing i have ever read. it was written by a heroin junkie in vancouver. i hope she is well.


In Hot Water
cyyren

Posted to craigslist.org 04/22 18:43:04

I'm one of those women who get jealous
for no reason, cut my hair
when I'm down, and smoke
in the shower, filling the room
with such opacity I can't be seen
naked. Willing to be no less than
a flirting junkie, no more
than the neighbor country's whore.

Each drag becomes soggier, the taste
more bitter with each flick of ash.
The drain becomes a collective,
a resting place for soot, stray
hairs and long ago, trickles
of cum or blood, or both.

I should brush my teeth, wash
my hair, coax the filth
from my skin with soap and bubbles.
I watch my track marks shine
red and bumpy -- crossroads
where my innocence, indifference,
intensity and indecency collide.

I'm one of those women who lie
in the bottom of the tub, steam presses
into my mouth and cunt, I think of folding
laundry, defrosted meat and how to slip
sleeping pills in the punch. Water
pelts my skin, I pull the curtain
to cover my face -- never fully
committed to anything.

Looking up, the enema bag hangs
from the rod, a dark pink swell
with rose scented innards. Suddenly afraid
it will fall and headlines will howl:
"WOMAN KILLED BY ENEMA"
If they only knew shooting
heroin makes it hard to
take a shit, or give a shit.

I move to where two sprays fall
directly from the showerhead
to my breasts, -I swear it wasn't
intentional- the divot between collarbones
fills and I am reminded of a duck
paddling in stagnant water and myself,
a prime candidate for breast
surgery or cancer, whichever comes
first. I'll sit up, throw a ciggarette
butt in the toilet, shave
my legs for no one, and continue
to regret having to be naked
to get clean.