I keep reading these long graphic poems that they send me— heart broken and filled with pain. I’ve never felt like that. Sometimes I actually wish I did. To feel something. Anything at all. To care about someone so much that their absence can inflict pain. I don’t feel that. I never have felt that. I’ve felt small bites as I shoo away most pests in my life. I’ve always heard silence and felt nothing.
But you know what does bring me feeling? That small rush that mixes a blurry haze with an exciting high. Those lines that burn at first and slowly turn my nostril numb and it grows down into my throat sometimes making it uncomfortable to swallow. Maybe that’s why I enjoy it so much. It gives me something that no one else can. Thin and milky white, she is mine.
And I’m addicted.