And then the waking clawing nightmare begins
As onlookers think it ends
And you rise from the depths of this narcotic pond
To the reality and air that stands above and beyond.
And you choke.
Gasping you long to retreat from the street and mocking passers by.
You run but can’t hide for reality.
Bared claws it is upon you with all its wrongs
Jockying for position
Pushing you to the back of each queue
Stepping on your decency
Pissing on your shabby nakedness
And so the blur; and the run begins again
Away from the civilization that you see and understand and know that mocks you.
And then in a smoky, hazy circle of other lonely fleeing minds.
You press a needle once again and for all the dirt and pain and misery you are free.