Sleep walking every day now.
You can’t get off on a ride like this.
Fine by me.
Found the dog of my dreams
in the gutter next to an epiphany —
This sensation is all I’ll ever need.
I like it so goddamn much
and that’s perhaps
why I should stop.
I want to die feeling like this.
I’ve got charcoal lungs
and everything I breathe
tastes china white.
I am surviving off borrowed time and loose plans.
Heroin makes me want to pop
off my head like a wine cork goes.
This is better than being in love.