so it is said

it wasn't
like there
was anyplace
else to go.

the drugs aren't
drugs anymore,
but chemical
highways
destined to
places worse
than the drug
that was supposed
to get you away
from it.

there's chemical
stuff to eat your
brain to mush
and leave you
heaped up in a
ditch with scabs
all over your face
from trying to scratch
away the bugs that
were never really there.

how about something
to take care of that
useless skin?
instead of track marks,
the bone will expose itself
and you'll die a worse
death than the witches
that were burnt alive for god.

we can all burn from the inside
out from concoctions made from
under our sink to help supply
fuel for the War on Drugs.
we can lean in and put
the gasoline
in our veins and
pretend it's something better.
we can die a little every
day for the sin of feeling better.
but we'll always have a good
drink to wash down the bile.
and that's much better
than being
high,
or so they say.