Junkie

You know you’re a junkie

And that your life is out of control

When you let some

Pervey old skeevy guy suck your dick

Just so you could make twenty dollars

To go and get high.

“Houston, we have a problem”.

This guy came up to me on the street

Close to where I lived

And told me that if I ever wanted

To make extra money

That he would pay me twenty dollars

To let him suck my cock.

I laughed him off

But still took his name and number

Written on a scrap piece of paper

And put it immediately into my pocket

Feeling filthy.

He proceeded to tell me that he worked

The glory holes down on the block

And he sucked a mean dick

But he was always looking for

Young bucks that he could get off.

To tell the truth

The guy sickened me.

Broken and battered

Grey hair

Skin that never sees daylight or vitamins

And the constant depraved way

That he looked at me.

He made me way uncomfortable.

And yet there I was

Weeks later

Sick

And needing to get high

And I pulled out that scrap of paper.

“Bennie”.

I made the call to Bennie

And his disgusting voice was on the other end

Telling me to come over

Giving me the address

Telling me he would be there waiting...

It was purely and simply a business transaction.

There was no emotion

Or hot conversation...

Thank God...

He got down to business

And I remember his rough grey facial hair

And his smell

The pale yellow light of his apartment.

It all made me nauseous

And I repulsed myself

Promising that I wouldn’t do this again.

And when I came

Bennie gagged and had to go

Into the other room.

When he came back

He apologized

Handing me a twenty

Telling me to come back any time

Of which I did

Several times

Until I so thoroughly turned my stomach

That I knew that I had to stop using.

But until then

I would leave Bennies

With a twenty

And hit my dealer quickly

And wash the filth and guilt away

With a good shot

Of horse.