Heroin

It was the first time I got high.

With time passed
I cannot give all of the details
But I remember most things vividly.

I remember going over to this girls house
For a good time.
I’m trying hard to remember her name.
It is so right there in front of me
But I cannot grab it.

It was me, Joey and Kevin

It was during the day...afternoon.
And she lived in a small house
In a run down neighborhood.
The house was single level
And had four or five rooms tops.
No family was present.

There were three chicks there
Besides her
And they were all nodded out
With faraway eyes.
I knew something was up.
I had experimented with a lot of drugs
But there was something else here.
Their body language was
So peaceful and coy.

Patti Smith’s album “Easter”
Was playing on a small stereo.
I had heard it before
But it now somehow sounded completely different.

Those girls were lucid and sexy.
I wanted them all
As they lay effortless
On the bed of this girl’s room.
We were all teenagers
Bittersweet in our awkwardness
Immersed in our pubescent sexuality.

There was an allure about this chick.
A mystique.
Her parents were always away.
I had heard that they were dark hippie outcasts.
Her brother was a member of the outlaw biker club the Pagans.
She pretty much had the lay of the land.
She was confident
And had lived a little more than I.
And she was the one that asked me to do it.
She was the one as “Ghost Dance”played
To fill a syringe
To find a vein
To draw back blood
And push that magic deep within my bowels.

I held my stomach back for a few moments
And descended onto the bed
So that I was lying there with three girls
That I had only met
Higher than I had ever been.

Kissing
Flirting
Fondling
As the afternoon sun
Came in through the windows
Covering us.
As GOOD music
Streamed directly into me.

Joey was next
And I watched the ritual
Repeat itself.

I have always seen the needle
Piercing skin as some sort of sexual charge
And that image
That is implanted
In my brain
Was born that moment.

And soon Joey too
Was on the bed
And we all moved like gentle kittens
Purring

The afternoon passed
Like a dream
As the sun went down.

Kevin did not get high.
Instead he sat in a chair
And I think he was a little uncomfortable
That he was not on the bed
That he was not feeling the same things that we were.
He would disappear
And reappear.

He was not ready for this.

I didn’t care.

I was too involved in that moment.
I was truly high.

I was becoming a young man
At the beginning of a long journey.

Putting the pen to the paper
And sketching a chapter into the unknown.

Tasting but a small scrap of life.