Being woken at the gates of heaven

Candy in a bag –

recollections of a need

when my mind was an unswept room,

my body a husk, full of holes so thick

I thought I would leak.


Needles in my bedside drawer,

ampoules ready to be

snapped off at the yellow line –

that crisp and thrilling pop.


No greater satisfaction,

nor ever surpassed.

Then the plunge of a needle

into flesh, digging down into muscle.


The other night, my body stockpiled opiates.

Nurses artfully depressed a syringe of Narcan

to bail me out of a deep unbreathing.

Two breaths a minute – my lazy lungs.

Nurses in a U shape around my bed –

‘you’re having some trouble breathing, love.’

Hell, I was between worlds dreaming about

tangerines and the biting aroma

of vodka, parcels and angels milk.

20120510-225557.jpg

One thought on “Being woken at the gates of heaven

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s