"He Does Hella Coke Now"
First time I heard that, acid traveled up my own esophagus as if maybe I could expel the truth that I just heard.
Now I stand there with a stone face and a hard heart and respond, "I know.”
I was never surprised, but sometimes the truth cuts open a tender wound that will just bleed and bleed and bleed with new questions, and worries, and fears.
Why isn’t anything ever enough for you?
How come the flood of serotonin you got when you woke up in your best friend’s arms wasn’t enough?
How come the dopamine in your beautiful head wasn’t enough when you heard my laugh?
Cause every touch, every smile, every word inhibited my mind and they won’t fucking leave.
They won’t leave.
When one high is over and you move on to the next,
I hope your pipe kisses you goodnight as tenderly as I did.
I hope your drink warms your body like a loving hug.
And I hope it’s enough for you.