A goddamn medical procedure
I see the nurses are wearing powder blue scrubs and yellow facial coverings – gloves – they are wearing really long gloves
The lights above me are fluorescent and blinding
The surgeon is standing a few feet away -
He is staring at the ground – and he does not look up
I count backwards from ten, as instructed
And do not make it to three
Electricity – burning electricity
An internal cattle prod
Exploring and destroying the skin – the skin where the fluorescents don’t shine
And I am bleeding … I am bleeding … I am bleeding –
The homosexual is going to die
The homosexual is going to die
In my tiny apartment, my dog sits on the floor –
He looks confused …
As I lay face-down on my second-hand living room couch
I, awake, dream Demerol dreams –
I am floating, floating, floating …
My sister is in the kitchen cooking something – but I am too exhausted to eat it
We will watch my favorite movie in silence until the credits roll
Then, I will go to bed to bleed-out
I witnessed my final sunrise this morning –
It was brilliant – so bright - it was awesome!
… I force the sunrise to be my final memory
As my eyes close; as my sister begins to cry …
… It’s 7 am – and I open my eyes -
I am laying in dried and in drying blood -
The sheets are soaked in blood -
… It is my blood
I am awake
Somehow I am awake, and I am breathing
I am a breathing Dead Boy
----
‘I want to no more of this life”, I say aloud
As the methamphetamine disappears up my nostrils one final time
“Yeah, right – you fucking junkie” he tells me as he injects the crystalline carnival into his veins
“My heart is not beating correctly”, I say
“My right arm is warm”, I say
“I think my heart is slowing down”, I say
“I think I am going to die”, I say …
I talk to the walls around me
As the methamphetamine violently escapes my pores
As the leaving benzodiazepines scream and scream and scream …
I’ve seen the Devil – he visited me
The Devil, HIMSELF
The Devil sat down – he grabbed a pillow and got comfortable …
The Devil HIMSELF
It is wanting to die for 456 hours
For 27,360 minutes –
For 1,641,600 seconds -
I stare at the ceiling as I count and feel every one of them
… the hallucinations …
The black ants march upon my skin
I, helplessly, watch them march
I feel every one of their legs upon my skin – they are marching –
I feel them bite me – they are biting me – they are biting me -
I am the king feast for the invisible meth ant army –
I am becoming a hatter – I make hats – as I slowly grow mad –
And bad, and sad, and better than I’ve ever had or grad or glad
And I make cats, and bats, and drats, and fats
… I am becoming a hatter - I am the maker of hats
[19 Days Later] I get out of bed
And the hat falls off of my head
I am nearly dead, but I am not dead [I think] –
The Devil is no longer here
And - I am breathing –
I am a breathing Dead Boy
----
He is taking me to a place – a place I do not want to go
He is …
I won’t talk about it
He is fire – and I am not water
He is a bear trap – and I am the bear
He is the scream – and I am unable to quiet him
He is the instrument that shatters glass – and I am thrown, crashing, against concrete
I won’t talk about it
I walk out of this place – and I am barely breathing …
I am a breathing Dead Boy
----
“Oh Robert – my dearest, Robert –
Why won’t you let me die by my own hand?
Must you sit up at night to keep watch –
to make sure I am still breathing?”
I pass out on the front porch as my friend watches reruns inside -
Unconscious, I paint the porch a beautiful crimson –
The blood-thinners are beginning to work their magic
As my perfect paint brush of skin spills upon the cement canvas
“It’s enough to kill a fucking elephant”, the boy without a name tells me
as he hands me the bag of pills
One, two, three goodnights – four, five, six goodnights
They are all dressed in elegant white –
They are dressed for the elegant ball!
“I want no more of this life”, I say aloud
[It’s enough to kill a fucking elephant]
I have failed, I have failed, I have failed!
Disappointed and miserable,
I am alive -
As Robert keeps watch – making sure I am still breathing …
I am, reluctantly, a breathing Dead Boy
----
I stand in this small graveyard where I am surrounded by stones –
The graves are still fresh – the dirt covers the bodies of my dead friends
How is it that I am the survivor?
How the fuck did that happen?
That was not supposed to happen …
The graves I mention do not really exist –
They exist in my mind -
Junkies don’t usually get funerals or markers
They disappear; they become invisible
They are no different from the trash that blows down the street in heavy wind
Mentally, I place a yellow rose next to the etchings of each of their carved names
They lived, they were flawed – and they were my friends
The graves do not exist
I leave this place; my tears escaping extremely
I am hyperventilating as I grieve, as I grieve extremely
But – I am breathing …
I am a breathing Dead Boy
----
Nowadays, I walk down the street and smile at dogs
Early morning strolls in the neighborhood –
I am greeted by wagging tails and doggy smiles –
I say hello to squirrels I see scampering
And I thank the birds for their generous birdsong
The beauty and the goodness surround me
I breathe in the late Autumn air
It is crisp – so crisp and delicious –
If I could taste it, it would be apples
I breathe in the invigorating late Autumn air
I breathe it in – I just breathe it in …
I am a breathing Dead Boy
Photo: Jimmy Broccoli.
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