TWO JUNKIES...DIFFERENT POISONS...

We both tie off.

Nerves screaming before the skin swallows metal.

My pupils go pinholes,

while hers turn into dark planets in the galaxy of her brain.

For that moment we both let the poison spread,

is the only time we both get what we need.

Instead of hearing me play my guitar,

she's more interested in taking it apart.

Her cigarettes last seconds,

and I can barely bring mine to my lips.

We knew the possibilities of this night

before we closed that door in this tiny,filthy room together.

The sickness leaves little time for preparation.

We covered the mirrors.

We shut the blinds,

and we both broke each others heart ahead of time.

She plays a beat with her fingertip taps,

while I nod my head in and out to the rhythm.

Pulling back her hair from her pretty,tearing eyes.

Mascara smeared like a Goth queen.

She begins to scrub the walls,and sweep the floor.

To me,the walls don't have to be clean

to support my head,and the floor looks fine to me

littered with orange caps and tiny plastic bags.

While I'm stretching,relaxed,listening to Blind Melon,

her voice rings excitement,sprinkled with fear,

asking me if I saw the shadow outside beyond the shades.

She paces back and forth occasionally checking the perimeter,

while I haven't moved since injection.

Oh I'm sure this night would have made an awesome pilot

for a T.V. program,but It would have gotten old,quick.

And though the blood on both our arms is red,

and it got there by the same means.

We both have different reasons for why it shows.