Friday, May 28, 2010

My Life in ABCs...A Montage

Anticipation about giving birth makes my heart jump so fiercely in my chest that it feels more like the tiny foot kicking my ribs just below the surface of my swollen belly.

Balconies with a jungle of hanging plants overlook Bourbon Street where the girls who work at the oldest strip club in America stand outside sweating in the heat trying to entice customers into the darkened interior.

Cocaine rings in my ears from a fat shot, sounding like an alarm that keeps wailing on my brain.

Drinking Jameson from behind the ancient wooden bar with its creaking beer coolers and various colored bottles illuminating the sparsest light, while the brown liquor warms and coats my throat all the way to my stomach.

Ecstasy eyes flicker back and forth through hazy vision while my whole body is humming with warm, wet, organic motion.

Falling out of grace and tumbling down a twisted tube to be thrown out in a completely altered world where it seems I am looking down a rabbit hole.

Girls with the appearance of feral cats prowling rabidly around in search of their next meal slink through the dark nightclub wearing only g-strings and high heels.

Hallucinations dance in front of my eyes as LSD bombards my mind with colors and flashing lights.

I wake up, disoriented and reeking of Irish Whiskey, to find myself behind a Plexiglas window with only a metal toilet and sink to keep me company.

Jarred by reality and bright sunshine that beats down on this balcony overlooking Esplanade Avenue, I am astonished too see the streets have morphed into rivers.

Keep fanning yourself in this unbearable August heat and humidity that clamps down on a city with no power and in desperate need of a shower.

Lifeless body, blue and swollen with water, weighs down heavy and stiff on both my back and my soul.

Manic fear sets in and grips my entire body with panic tainted anxiety as those tapes of the storm keep playing a flashing montage of images inundated with water over and over in my head for months.

Nervous people stand in line at the methadone clinic each morning, twitching for their next fix while with every moment their eyes grow wider from fear of the sickness.

Opening his perfect little blue eyes that look just like mine only adorned with the longest lashes, he smiles sleepily and my heart melts.

Perforate the skin with a needle that glides in like slicing warm butter, while I pull back on the trigger and watch my blood blossoming as if its a poppy flower.

Quiet fills the tiny cell after the solid metal door slides mechanically shut, clinking into the locked position, and I realize how horribly alone I am.

Reciting my marriage vows on the beach, clouds grow ominous and dark while the sky opens up to pelt us all with hard raindrops.

Stars appeared to me for the first time in those pitch black nights in New Orleans where the city lights no longer had the power to upstage the twinkle in the night sky.

The dope hits your veins, and warmth spreads from the back of your neck and slides down throughout your entire body all wet and fluid like an orgasm.

Under heavy influence when I stumble to the downstairs door, I am surprised to have a gun pointed in my face as they drag me up and force me to undress.

Veins pulsating and screaming for more as the pain of withdrawal settles down to annihilate my body and mind with its madness.

Words flow out once more, crashing onto the paper like water from a burst pipe that is finally released from captivity.

Xanthic liquid bile ejects from my stomach, burning my throat as the poison is purged from my body while I shiver and sweat with jerky, cramping legs.

Years of wasted time and unsaid abuse ignite a fire that burns bright red with driven passion exploding in sparks and slivers of light as my pen touches down on paper.

Zigzag papers lie open on a hand me down table while hopeful college kids giggle as they exhale, filling the room with a sweet and pungent smoke that reminds me of nature versus nurture.

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