[12 years old]
The very first time I smoked weed
I was following my big brother’s lead
A crushed can of Coke
I coughed more than I smoked
“You high? ” Oh yes, yes, indeed
Dance, Baby, Dance
[13 years old]
That golden girl who introduced me to drugs
That evil bitch who was the first person I ever loved
Of course, in the beginning I had no idea how bad she would be for me
And I didn’t think twice when she asked me if I wanted to try some triple cs.
She had done them at a friend’s birthday party a few weekends before
She warned they were kind of addicting, but I’d done drugs and enjoyed them, nothing more
So one mild night in early fall she comes to my house and brings with her two sleeves
Of little red pills, we take eight each
We walk to a park so my mom doesn’t notice when they hit
But that night they never quite did.
After a few hours we head back home and go to sleep
If anything happened at all, I had some weird dreams.
She’s adamant though that we get more
And I want to know what it’s like, so she steals some from the store
We wash them down with Naked juice
I was not at all prepared to be so seduced.
I don’t remember it all, but I will never forget the sensation of floating
My mind was capable of so many wonders without me ever knowing
I could feel shooting stars in my hands and a pulsing throughout my whole body
I had never felt so close to myself yet so disembodied
We laid in my backyard, chain smoking, and giggling the anxieties away
Smiling so fucking big it hurt, “I see why people would want to do this every day!”
About the time we started to come down, her dad came by to pick her up
“That was fun, but just warning you, tomorrow will suck .”
Yet tomorrow came and she called me up asking me if I wanted to come over
“I even have some triple cs left over.”
I was so ready to do them again, I couldn’t wait
Twenty-four pills down before hour 48
She had prepared and bought us glow sticks and got out her speaker
Doing drugs turns you into a bit of a pleasure seeker.
I made myself a crown- that would come to be my daily fixture- and wore glowing lights on my head
And when the pills finally hit, I danced for hours and hours and hours because I was afraid if I stopped I’d fall dead.
She reacted differently and could barely even move, she laid on her bed and enjoyed the sensation
But we both agreed on never having experienced such elation
A few days later, I told my brother about my trip
Thinking he might want to do them with me as a kind of kinship
Instead he told me to leave them alone, they were too easy to overdose on
I thought he was being too serious because they were so fun.
Even his best friend, the only person I knew who had done heroin, said he had only ever taken four at a time
And that was when his addiction was at its prime.
Less than a week later, I’m having my mom drop me off at Walmart before school
I told her it was to get some snacks, but really I thought that tripping during class might be cool
This turned into my daily routine
That’s how I got addicted to drugs at thirteen
Especially when she started to ask me to bring some for her too
I’d do them regardless, but I felt safe knowing someone had the same views
So I would start my day, lying on the floor in the back of my math teacher’s classroom, trying not to vomit
God bless, Mrs. Wilkins because she knew something was up, but never made any comments
Eventually I’d gain enough strength to sit back up and pretend to be present
That was if I came to class at all, which was not a frequent event
I’d make my way to my second period with my pupils the size of the moon
Friends asking how I was feeling, my reply, “I might throw up, but I’ll be real good soon”
Twenty minutes into a history lecture it’d hit me all at once
I’d go from being so, so low, to shooting all the way up
I got accustomed to the sickness because it was the precursor to the high I was chasing
I wanted to constantly feel that amazing.
Towards the end of the day is when it would start to get sticky,
An emotionally draining and painful detox, makes paying attention a bit tricky
I would sit in my English class and try to ignore the pattern in which my muscles would shake
I would watch the clock and wait to get out, so I could smoke some weed to soothe the ache
I’d meet up with one of my best friends, go get high in the boat in his garage
Then I’d go home and give my calves a massage
Often times, I’d take another eight pills later that night, thinking it might help me sleep
But really, I tripped for two years and barely slept a peep
I could only doze when I was detoxing hard enough
And even then it was just a bluff
I’d oversleep hoping my mom wouldn’t force me to go to school
Keeping my addiction hidden from her became my number one rule
But other than that, there isn’t a whole lot I can remember from those days
I think when I got sober it all got hidden away
Somewhere far, far, far back in the very depths of my brain
Buried along with everything else that has ever caused me pain.
PART II
[13 years old]
We smoked before school all of the time
Wake goes with bake like lemon to lime
Eyedrops in my eyes
Quickly normalized
An ancient stoner paradigm
Part III
[13 years old]
I sit on my bed as I cry
I have run all out of supply
“Please, buy me drugs?”
He gives me a hug
“I