A moment in time with a prick
in the arm and a rush
of confusion and infusion.
Opiate racing through my
circulation. Its’ horrific
bliss with heroin’s kiss
My nose is itchy, and my tongue
is dry. Stomach retching.
Is this the high they spoke about
when sharing the wonders of poison
in brown, wrapped in paper looking for
citric mixed with dihydrogen oxide,
fused with radiation, convection and conduction?
I’m zoned out now from the moment and
life. It takes eleven years
to wake up from that prick.
A show of red in the beginning and the end.
©Stuart Patterson 2018
This poem is the result of homework set in my Creative Writing class. It had to be free verse and based on the moment of my dust heroin injection.
I don’t want to say too much about the meaning as I like hearing how other people see it. (sometimes)
This POST is part of a wider collection to show the journey that would eventually lead me to the cross of Jesus Christ, my personal redemption, and my journey of faith afterwards.
If you would like to know more of my story, please click on my “About” page and take it from there.
Alternatively, you can visit the Media Links page and see a short visit done by BBC Radio Scotland for an interview I did there.
If you or someone you love, needs help with the Christian response to addiction, or if you would just like to know more or need hope, please click on one of the following:
Teen Challenge Strathclyde
Teen Challenge UK
Teen Challenge Global
Bethany Christian Trust
Jumping Jacks Outreach
Cornerstone Assemblies of God, Maryland
Broken Chains Ayr
Easterhouse Community Church
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