memoir
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One Last Time A few days, after I overdosed, maybe a week—I don’t know how long because all the days blur into the same dull apathy as I numb my mind and slowly fade into amorphous oblivion—my girlfriend whom we’ll call Serenity catches on to my decline. She comes home from work to wake me…
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Once an Addict Two minutes late, I sneak into a Narcotics Anonymous meeting, unsure if this is where I should be at 8:00 pm on a Saturday night. All my peers are out, probably drunk at bars or house parties, smoking blunts and doing coke off someone’s key or a tiny metal spoon that looks like it belongs…
Grateful I'm Not Dead 