She stands alone by the barely lit lamppost as the clock strikes midnight. Surrounded by a group she cannot call friends, bones shaking because she’s so thin.
One more time then she’ll be done, one more hit will be her last fix. I’m getting tired of the streets she says to herself in disgust.
A body full of bruises An arm full of scabs protruding A look of loss in the eyes, as she keeps on shooting
Her next ride appears as she approaches feeling the danger and fear. Her heart knowing she may never make it out alive, Her body striving just to get by.
Twenty minutes and she’s done as she hauls ass to the nearest safe street, Pouring into her veins her defeat. A feeling of lust and magical joy. Her head nodding off playing music on repeat.
Not eating in days, noticing she is dirty her John gave her an extra thirty. She hobbles off to the next store where she buys some chips, a bottle to consume & soap before noon.
Such beauty lost in the streets, back to the abandoned home with the rodents she sleeps. Wrapping herself in a worn blanket onto the cracked wooden floor. She opens her bottle and says “Cheers Tomorrow starts a new day for sure....”