Methamphetamine

Made her feel like stealing something, like taking a bath, not eating, even the thought, rubbing her face in the sun bath beams just off the back porch steps, like pissing outside, or snorting a pill, working a civil war puzzle,like fucking and sucking, not fucking, just sucking, never fucking or sucking again, like sticking her finger up her ass while fanticizing about fingering the lady next door in the bathtub. Made her remember her mother, forgetting her goddamned fucking father, washing her hair twice in one afternoon, like shaving her triangle, grooming and painting her hands and feet, checking her teeth, new tattoos, baking soda, new ideas, like Cherry Diet Coke-blast-like diet Mountain Dew and Pepsi, losing the weight, remembering the beautiful onceness of her now concentration-camp-like sagging ass cheeks, like stealing makeup from Walmart, and thinking about when she wasn't barred, like public defenders, ankle monitors, jailhouse inkwork, jail credits, work release, two for one, not being on paper for a full year, like what it was like having a drivers' license, having a lover, a clean liver, now needing a 12-pak quick-like, giving the cat an unnecessary bath, like bleach-cleaning the tiled corner behing the commode, bleaching the rigs, and prepping for copping another cornered three point four gram eight-ball. She can't find her beloved torch from last night. Bet he took it. God I love his sorry ass. Without him she'd have to blow for it. Time to intensly float away from the misty thrill of the toke for roughly half a day because she found her torch outside beside the back steps.