i'm a junky, itchin, sweatin, rocking nervously in my seat. chills. nail biting. scared. desperate to get rid of reality. desperate.

dump the bag out
it's dry
clumps crumble
desperate
smells
okay
eh.

take the pipe out of the altoid tin
screw the mouthpiece on
desperate
pack
pack

fondle the tarot for answers
three of cups, non-committal
the choice is in my own hands, and last night i was the
high priestess. as i'm putting the deck away,
the bottom card, death, flashes a smile at me.

pause

rock
rock

fuck it

light
pull
pull
pull

Please don't smoke the mystery bag," he said.
Exhale.

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