Dopehead

decomposes while his uncle plays dominoes. Neither can contain their

giggles

when

I bring skittles and soda

to

the game. Bunch of dudes in a dungeon. Prison fools prisoners to

prison rules. As obvious as the poorly carved

tattoos.

Stained with shitty symbols

and

statements. The Aryan nation

insignia

along his tibia exposed

when

he reaches for his drug paraphernalia.

Faded.

Hate it. Can't say shit.

Crack

has a distinct smell – especially when the foil's burnt.

Eyes

on me. I was more of an All

Eyes on Me.

As obvious as the marijuana plant 

in

the corner. Dying. Solo. Dolo.

I

won't let them try to play me. Nobody puts baby

in

the figure four or ankle lock. Muted, Smackdown plays as the smack-

down

glazes over their eyes.

No

surprise. Screwed faces

on

screwed-up racists. Wasted.

Heroin

can make a mother fucker nod off in the middle of a conversation.

Hope

that's sterilized.

Hope

you're sterile.

As

oblivious as a sentient clogged toilet.

Full

of shit. Being full of shit can be a symptom

of

opiate abuse. Obtuse if you think there's nothing worse

you

can call a man than bastard.

Master.

There's

more to life than stone-faced selfies, cocaine,

and

candy.

If

I have to make an argument for abortion,

you

are my plan b.