Mind Prison

 Staring into the mirror I didn't recognize the monster staring back. Trying to smile, only half of my face reacts. Despair chases down the anger, leaving me helpless in it's wake. Tears pooled in my eyes, and I fought the urge to give in and let it take over. Not today. Some days I let it flow freely, but not today, not at this moment.

 Growing up, I was taught to face my consequences no matter the cost. If you couldn't face them, don't make the decision. So I have to face this everyday. I decided to be the bigger person, and staying true to myself, did what I thought was the right thing. Even though he didn't care anything about me, I still was out running the roads at the wee hours of the morning, trying to find his vehicle so he'd go his faking ass to the E.R. Which led up to the accident. 

 So now just using the bathroom is such a grueling task. In my old room, I had all my mirrors covered. Now that I'm not there anymore, I don't have that luxury. 

 I get back to my phone, and I hit up my friend. Well, my go to plug. She knows by the sound of my voice, today was already a bad day. I heard the regrett as she told me he was out of my usual and it would be a couple of hours before she got anymore. A couple of hours could mean two to twenty-four. Being my impatient self, I asked her what else she had. She said she had some blackgurl. Told her I'll take it, bring it on.

 She brought me a smaller sack than I would have gotten of the other, but it was ok, I knew it was stronger. This wasn't my first dance with the Queen. We do the tango from time to time.

 I set out a small line, feeling the excitement stir my belly, and snorted it. Setting back, I glanced at the clock, eleven eleven. Eleven thirty I should be well on my waltz. Flipping through the channels awaiting for it to hit, I ran across Trainspotting. Giggling at the irony of it, I settled in trying to start my escape. Glancing back at the clock, eleven fourty. Dammit, not big enough. I set out another line. The same excitement tickling my belly. I snorted it. Before I could sit back good and take a drink, the first line hit me. My mind relaxed, my body followed and my half smile made an appearance. 

And for thirty minutes or so, looking like a monster didn't bother me, my headache subsided enough that the berating words of my ex -stopped ricocheting and I relaxed. I engrossed myself into Trainspotting, laughing at all the undercut jokes that most people don't see and enjoyed myself. 

 Trainspotting ended and so did my high. Almost an hour out of those two. Cursing life and the fact I'm still in it, I repeat this process. I'm hoping my girl has my normal when I hit her up next time. It last longer, numbs better and is cheaper. And if she don't, I'll take whatever she's got just to escape my monstrous hell for however long I can. I pray that soon, either God will take my life, or send a miracle. At this point, either will be better than this.