This morning I woke up, looked over at you sleeping with an orange syringe cap next to your pillow and for some reason— I hated you.
I hated every single thing about you, including your inability to put your syringe caps in the sharps container before you fall asleep.
I hate waking up with caps in the bed, it’s annoying and it’s lazy considering the sharps container is on the floor next to your side of the bed. I’m tired of taking dirty syringes out of your hand while you’re nodding and sliding off the couch,
I’m not your junkie mother and you’re going to stab yourself.. again.
It’s exhausting taking care of you all the time; taking dirty needles, lit cigarettes, cookies and the occasional cup of cranberry juice out of your hand while you’re nodding with your eyes closed.
Yesterday I stepped on a syringe cap in the kitchen, what reason is there to be shooting up in the goddamn kitchen? Are you shooting up while pouring cereal now? It wouldn’t surprise me and I’m sure you fell asleep in that bowl right after dropping it, huh?
I woke up, looked over at you dreaming of giant balls of heroin and it made my heart ache a little.. which made me bitter, made me want to punch you in the throat, made me hate you.
I’m sorry for leaving this morning without waking you up to say goodbye, I’m sorry I packed my bags quietly so you wouldn’t ask where I was going and when you call me later but I don’t pick up.. yeah, I’m also sorry about that.
By: Lauren Fanning / Bloody (MentalBloody™)