84 of 276

Poetry: Drug addiction

by Deborah Stewart

They tell me that I used to have beautiful, pearly white teeth in a dazzling smile

Someone said that I used to brush my hair-and shower every day!

But now, they have cut off all my hair, because the mats were too thick to get a brush through.

And then, there was the bugs.

The woman here at the shelter told me that I used to have a beautiful home, and good friends...

I think she was telling me pretty stories to make me want to live.

I cannot remember the smell of perfume, or how to apply make-up.

Did I dream it-or was I once a beautiful woman?

It must have been a dream, because when I look into the dim mirror,

I see only a toothless hag with black circles under her sunken eyes.

My bones protrude, and I no longer care about such things as hair, and teeth, and showers.

I choose to stay in my self-created world of fantasy.

Here-I am safe. There are no mirrors, and no one expects anything of me;

No one cares what happens to me.

I like it that way.

Helium, Inc.
200 Brickstone Square Andover, MA 01810 USA