minutes

3:00 a.m.

I want him.

My mind numbs away

as my body takes control.

Foretting all sense,

my feet walk to his door.

3:10 a.m.

He opens the door,

expecting me.

I would have left.

But I need the high.

I should know better than to leave.

Good thing he takes care of me.

3:11 a.m.

He puts it on the table.

I know what I need to do.

I strip my clothes away,

get on his body.

Payment.

3:30 a.m.

He tells me,

in a newfound sweet voice,

that the drugs are mine to take.

I reach for them,

but my mind turns back on.

3:31 a.m.

Not caring that I'll regret this in the future,

I spin and run out the door.

My body hurts.

I need the drugs.

But I keep running.

So do I really need them after all?