Euphoric

I am a drug addict; I’ve never been high before. Infatuation is going to be the death of me. Uncomfortable in my own body, in my own skin. I know happiness exists; it just doesn’t have substance. What was unattainable is now unavoidable. Dead on impact. I can’t do this to my mother. I blame it entirely on my mother. I used her missing spine to help me reach heights never this high before. Whenever I do decide to fall, I wont flinch because of the impact. I chase weightlessness, gravity means death for me. My organs are healthy and full of substance. My body was made to shed its skin. You can see my soul through my skin. My heart screams and waves to my mother. I cover my tracks with a slippery substance. My elevation is simply not as high as before. Euphoria is a synonym of death to me. I’m not worried about my afterlife; I’m worried about my impact. I can see the scars in the earth from my impact A bloody sink and sunken eyes. I follow the map on my skin. The irony of religion is that death is me. I am slowly killing my mother. I refused to reach my highest before, But now I need fuel for substance. My life is not controlled by a substance, And my body is not affected by its impact. Denial has never waved hi before. I can hear the strain of sinew underneath skin As I watch a soul tearing inside my mother. Neither of us can address the death in me. We hold hands, contact means death with me Secondhand smoke, secondhand acceptance, secondhand substance. I know I will die before my mother But she insists on turning her bones into cushioning for the impact. Her face looks youthful next to my deteriorating skin. Until now, I have never wanted to not die before. I always knew she would experience death without me. I just hope she smiled once she finally met impact. I will always love you mother I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this high before.