Throwing up
lights out and drug sick
in the back of an ambulance
(is that how I spell it?)
Red, white, and I’m through
said his nickel stained inspiration
as the lights whirled woozily on the buildings
blurring passed.
Throwing up tonight
it’s a rite of passage.
Growing up through life
while sloppily stitching the scab.
The powder flows through
and it feels too numb.
Going up without a goodbye
it’s only out of courtesy anyway.
I’m home and happily waiting.
ShootYourDarlings 