the farewell party.

day ones always a bitch because the sickness kicks in the moment i awake...some say it takes twelve solid hours, trust me, my motherfucker of a body must be metabolizing so quickly that it kicks in when i awake. the chills come and go, mainly come though. its a sweaty ride & somehow i always keep extremely busy on day one so i don't think too much.

now it's day two and my stomach is in knots still - i have a headache, no shakes yet. this is typical. naseau usually re-sets itself in a few hours. the traces aren't gone yet, hopefully in a week .

but i know ive quit so why do i have the spoon saved? & the dirty points too?
he begins rehab soon & i said i'd quit so why did i save anything? & why into the night, he showed me over and over how to do it myself. silly boy i know how to do it i kept telling him. he said just watch no collapses are allowed.
...
it's sick that a slap on the wrist and a blow to the elbow over and over just to awaken the vains gets me hot. there is something seriously sick in my motherfucking head. in our farewell party we bought more than we could handle & you did most of mine because i promised you no seizures so i was a good girl & you worried about cotton fever & i told you but thats what makes the journey so good...we laughed, you wanted me to cook my own & it made me sad and i got so angry, how could my darling not take care of me but nevertheless all while hitting the tip and driving my car with yr knees and tying a shirt around my arm you still cooked for me. i love you in the most strange parts. it's your eyes looking sad before we find anything, but keeping cool for my sake.it's your eyes when somehow i fanagle my way into drugs & you look at me like i am some sort of mystical shining star. & i look at you the same because youve taught me all i ever wanted to know. its the beauty in the point to which we have destroyed somethnig beautiful : our selves.