Cleanse Me

Wake up.
Shoot up.
Shower.
Clothes.
Coffee.

My morning routine has been the same since I was nineteen years old.

Sleepily, I roll to the side of my bed and sit up, my hands shaking slightly. It's been over ten hours since I last shot up, and I can't wait to get the drugs deep into my blood stream.

I can feel my headache coming on; just another reason to medicate and numb myself.

As soon as the needle slides into my arm I'm flying high, my eyelids blinking against the pleasure of it. Slowly, my headache dissipates, and I am able to stand for more than mere seconds.

Lethargically, I stumble over to the bathroom connected to my bedroom, grabbing a dirty towel from the floor and turning the hot water on full blast.

With my head against the cool shower wall, I let the water cascade down my body, closing my eyes. I'm disgusted with myself, with my body, with my life. But as usual, I'm so high I don't care about anything but the rivulets of water going down my forearms and bare hips.

After slowly scrubbing myself clean of sweat and dirt, I get out and shake my shaggy black hair, closing my eyes tight as the movement makes my world spin.

Usually, it takes a minute to get stable after I shoot up.
I wait patiently, leaning against the sink, until my world steadies and I feel okay to move.

I move lazily around my apartment, finding boxers and pants, then a shirt and my leather jacket. My morning walk for coffee is one of the things I look forward to most, mainly because of one person.

I don't know her name and I doubt I ever will. She never notices me, she's always wrapped up in a book, or maybe just her own thoughts.

She stares off into space a lot, and she's so beautiful it makes my jaw ache.

She'd never go so low as to be with me, but I'm perfectly content with watching her from afar. Content with being unnoticed as I openly gawk at her beauty.

Maybe today will be the day that I'll talk to her.
If it were a perfect world and I had anything other than a gram of heroin to offer her.

But I don't, and I know without asking that I'd never have a chance in hell.