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Stupid high
where did you go?
you used to be spectacular.
what happened to the parties and all of the glamour?
my pockets full of money and all my fine riches?
who sits at my corporate desk now?
whatever happened to my long thick hair?
and those curves that killed men as I walked on by?
what happened to excitement?
my beautiful teeth that glistened as I smiled all day?

now I'm left broke and on this corner
still wearing my favorite dress but it's been about a month now.
I sport a wig I picked up from some hooker down the block,
my hands won't stop shaking
my teeth,
wait,
the few I have left.
curves?
the skin that hangs from my bones hanging on by threads.
whatever happened to the family I was going to raise?
and the man that would become my husband?
and me his wife.
what happened to the white picket fence
or the poodle we were going to buy?
where did my dreams go?
I said I'd put them off for tomorrow,
when I was done getting high,
when partying got old.
now I'm old
and putting off death for tomorrow,
when I'm done suffering.
where did it all turn?
when did it go wrong?
was it after the cigarettes,
when my fingers and teeth grew yellow and weak?
and my breathing was brought to a minimum?
was it after the trees,
when all my clothes wore that same odd smell?
and my mouth carried that same taste?
was it after the snorting,
when my body looked frail and people were afraid to break me by staring too hard?
and my nose was an open wound?
or was it after the injections and pills,
when my body shook on them or off them?
and sleep had become non existent to me?
or maybe after the sex,
when there was no money in my pockets to feed my body the nutrients it needed to survive?
and after a while I sucked so bad that wouldn't even get me half a pipe?
I'm sitting here, hoping death would turn the corner
but with me here, not even god would turn this corner.

Learn more about this author, Michelle Jose.
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