Baltimore
Baltimore,
again.
8 AM, sweating, shaking
on the verge of puking up
stomach acid.
the car is dead silent.
are we early?
are they late?
is this how its going to be
forever?
who knows.
who cares.
i’ve been watching time
pass and slip through
the cracks between my fingers.
it seems more apparent
than usual.
we are parked at a gas pump.
each time i make eye contact
its quickly broken.
i know what they are thinking.
‘what a shame.’
‘my morning could be worse.’
maybe they even feel
gratitude.
as they finish filling up,
i watch them reach for
their phones.
i wonder if they are calling
their daughters and sons.
on the surface,
just to check in.
but inwardly,
thankful their children
aren’t heroin addicts.
no one wants their baby to grow up
to be
a junkie.
i steal a glance at my other half
she’s ill
but she’s beautiful.
she’ll feel better soon enough.
a young handsome black man
starts over
and my heart
skips a beat.
we exchange currency
for oblivion.
we drive away to find
somewhere to hit.
it feels like
my first kiss.
i can’t remember what makes me happy anymore.
my happiness is
artificial
and fits nicely
in a syringe.
when i get on,
i can breathe again.
i melt into the passenger seat,
successful.
i watch her try to find a vein,
in and out of consciousness.
she’s millimeters away from getting well.
she’ll get there.
i let myself nod but
for a moment,
i wonder
what that young, handsome black man
wanted to be
when he grew up.
i guess it doesn’t matter.
everyone crosses paths at the bottom.
Copyright © Caseyana Culotta | Year Posted 2023
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