26. Started selling at 11.
Heroin, your partner at 13.
False ecstasy in your nostrils.
Fleeting, just as your stay here,
leaving me in tears, shattered.
Light returning in your eyes,
a mere flame for you to snuff out.
Crumpled dreams. Hopes destroyed.
Your Medusa calls you forth.
Snow outside. More expected.
Still you go. To Camden?
To your familiar war zone?
To brokenness and abuse.
Here lies healing and
a different future. Dead.
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