This is the Way: a memoir of poetry and heroin

“Heroes” by David Bowie. Version by Mackenzie Johnson

Lieutenant Dominic voted in the election and no one has seen him since. All we know is that supposedly he’s been discharged but he didn’t leave any contact information and no one had a chance to see him off. I feel guilty for not making more of an effort to wish him well and get…

At 3:23 AM—according to my alarm clock—I get up to pee, relishing the freedom of solitude now that Junkiemind Jerry has moved out. I stand in the bathroom’s inadequate yellow half-light feeling stronger than I ever have since I got here. I look at myself in the mirror and decide to shave as soon as…

At our nightly community meeting, Lt. Dominic congratulates everyone on the success of the barbecue and thanks Jonah for cooking, even though he was sick. He says he is going to apply for a group day pass and maybe take some of the guys to a movie off-campus as a treat. I’m grateful we have…

At Group time, my check-in feeling is “concerned.” I’m worried that my liver is failing like the Yellow Man’s, that I am about to go over the waterfall of Suboxone withdrawal, that I will shit myself at any moment, and most of all worried about what will happen when my wife comes for family day…

I’m flying down, down through layer after layer of sleep on the wings of Jerry’s pill when the dream begins.

I wake up to one of Junkiemind Jerry’s alarm clocks going off. Daylight has begun creeping in from the window, making diffuse, ominous shadows from everything in the room. We have an early house meeting on the Sunday schedule and then we’re supposed to go down to the Day Hospital auditorium for something called “spirituality.”