How I was

It was never an easy task.
The mundane had settled in
and the uniqueness of life no longer affected him.
There could be no role as draining as his.
He was a junkie and didn't know it.

Life had become fuzzy
He was detuned from emoting
And no matter how he adjusted the signal
He would always see snow
Snow where there was no cloud to birth it

Smoke became comforting to him;
Billowing from ceramic pipes or broken light bulbs
In deep jaundiced plumes spread across the room
Stagnating in indifference and chemical residue

Too little chemistry had provided heartache
But two little puffs provided big joy
And when the joy wore off there was nothingness
And that oblivion was always better than tangibility.

He was mostly alive but never really lived
Just ‘made it’ day to day in a dream state
A fugue of regret and self destructive ambitions;
star-crossed as a perfect demise.

Soon he waited for his conclusion
Death became his unknowing suitor
And he longed for the cold touch of finality
Became captivated with it.

But death never came
Though the drugs always did;
Encompassing his existence.
Alas sorrow swallowed his nothingness
For pain always exceeds pleasure
And he was left broken and manic

He was a junkie and didn’t know it