@
MMLP
”Letter To A Friend”
It started as a pick me up, until you got carried away
hard into the grip of drug addiction and had no escape.
You felt the gradual changes, picked the scabs from your scars
as black as the tar injected through the tracks in your arms.
I held your hand through the hardship and you thanked me with trust
in fact it was
us when your family turned their backs in disgust.
We looked after each other all through our upheaval
the two of us equals, sharing everything — including a needle.
You introduced me to people that you held in regard
I felt you were charming for greeting me with welcoming arms.
We were always together regardless of everything in your life
You were a prick at the time, but I’d always stick by your side.
When you’re living the high life they all want to share in the moment
but are nowhere to be noticed once you’re there at your lowest.
I cared for my closest friend like we were brothers
trying to push him to do more where others tried to discourage.
A life without substance was never our thing
- as embedded in him as the contents of an empty syringe.
After the heroin binge you’d forget that I’d exist
‘til you were desperate for a fix for the mess that you were in.
I’d be there within a jiffy in the cold pouring rain
with no more to say— I’m always just a phone call away.
We both fought in vain, though you knew I was right,
in fact
you were the guy that dropped
me numerous times.
I knew you inside out, I’d been there through thick and thin,
from you barely fitting in a large tee to wearing skinny fit.
You’d tear me limb from limb convinced you had it under control
as a junkie you’d know how to ride out every bump in the road.
The drugs took a hold, offering you a momentary escape
knowing you would face your fears again alone when you awake.
You would hold on to me shaking while begging me for more
eyes as empty and withdrawn as the banking deficit of yours.
Some said that I was pure evil, a good-for-nothing mess,
but you would look at me and sense I was a cut above the rest.
I wanted nothing but the best for you, you would have deserved it,
that changed once I came in touch with the person under the surface.
I can’t put into words just how good it felt to kick your ass
for taking everything I had, and never giving back.
You were a selfish little bastard sitting stuck inside his house
who didn’t come to find me out or pick me up if I was down.
You ditched me just to buy an ounce, a user right until the end,
who’d try and fill my head with the same shit time and time again.
I was the type you could depend on, you let me lie in the street,
while you would either look out for yourself or signs of the police.
You never liked to be seen with me, bitch I should have learned
‘cause if you were concerned you wouldn’t have kicked me to the curb.
I plan to hit you where it hurts most, the next injection is lethal...
You’re dead when I see you.
Truly yours,
Your “best friend,”
-
a heroin needle.
.
.
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