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DEBBIE KIRK
Red Flags I found the following “grocery list” in my pocket today when I was doing laundry: Laxatives Paint thinner Hydrogen peroxide Syringes Food serves very little purpose In the life of an addict Usually just a little sugar To kill the stomach cramps Then you’re finished With food I called in sick To my physical Cause I was too high to drive If I get another dirty piss test Those fuckers will put me back On the inside. And its not as bad as jail But at least on the outside I can make explosives in my tub Make a list of people to kill And fall asleep reading The Anarchist cookbook. Freedom. Sock hop for retards The most beautiful love story I’ve ever known Was never in a book with a worn Golden angelic back. Beautiful Dramatic Bloody Sacrificial And genuine The dance between me and the high It can bring tears to my eyes It can make me sing to myself out loud It can even turn the dragons Into pink flying dogs (like in the Never ending Story) The ups and downs The lows make the highs possible But the up is never high enough A backwards limbo of trying to reach Into the giant helium balloon But even endless supplies of Nitrous Would not satisfy this stubborn selfish girl I always have to push the envelope off of the makeshift table Landing right on my breathing strip You’ll have to learn how to self-destruct If you ever want to love me. Grab your 3-D glasses from Jaws 3 Turn on your Christmas lights And brace yourself for an Old school white trash Kind of insanity Insanity and love Love for the goddamn high And insane for knowing it And still reaching for it like the Last ripe apple on the tree of sin Sometimes this high you seek Seems to be a myth Like the sasquatch, or the female orgasm. Other times you just know its there Your very own pipe dream That you deep throat like you’re getting paid to And none of it is real That’s why it will always be beautiful. The fucking dance I do with the high Makes Greased Lightning Look like a sock hop for retards And the beauty Hurts to look at. Trading one vice for another After weeks of waking up and saying “tomorrow I’m going to give my stash to my neighbor” and “tomorrow I’m gonna sell my stash” with no follow thru about a week ago I flushed easily 100 dollars of weed Down the toilet. And there are vigilantes in this trailer park They declared war on me The minute they saw That I was marked But yesterday was a good day Yesterday was a great day A motorcycle ride along the coast But this morning I woke up And started taking vodka shots For no reason Without thinking Automatic as the money they take out of your account When you bounce a check. I feel like I’ve been bounced And those mother fuckers are grading on my nerves They are fucking with the wrong person I have nothing to lose Therefore, I will always win Now I’m having fantasies About the scene in Trainspotting Where Ewan jumped headfirst into the toilet To retrieve his lost Opiate suppositories I remember that rats can fit into Any place that they can get their head thru And I’m wondering how I would dry out all that weed Anyway Seeing as how I’m not so dry these days. Drinking vodka and juice alone On a Wednesday afternoon Can make you feel like you have All those guts You lost years ago. Debbie Kirk is a 31 year old writer\artist in Austin Texas. Check out her website at www.debbiedkirk.com |
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