Back in the Day

my last memory of that year

before i got sent away

to rehab

was sitting in my closet

with a long dress right in front

of my face.

i could hardly breathe

with 

adrenaline rushing

pulse racing.

 

i held aluminum foil and

a ball of hashish.

pretending that my parents

were not there

sleeping right next door.

my mind was crazed i remember,

the desperate act of an addict

getting high through a straw.

 

i recall hearing footsteps

and i quickly hid everything,

laid down in bed

covers over my head

pretending…

always pretending.

and how my body twitched

as i heard the noise grow louder

and closer

right outside my door.

 

then the tears

those awful tears

falling from my mother’s eyes.

my lovely mother

filled with such pain and fear

that it threatened to suffocate me.

choking me to

the death i surely deserved.

 

when that passed,

and she finally retired upstairs

alone and miserable

i felt a tinge of guilty pleasure

knowing that at least

i was high

 

and in that moment,

everything was okay.