She was always a dreamer
Correction, she was almost always dreamer
There were moments in everybody’s life where nights would pass in the blink of an eye
And dreams are not delivered to our bedsides by Mr. Sandman
But there was a time in her life where inception became more than a movie
And that dying in a dream actually does mean you die in real life
You see it started one night
It only took two hours
Three shots of tequila
Four drinks bought from five different men
Before she noticed that the six was actually a nine and her whole world was moving faster than expected
In the wee small hours of the morning, when the sun dreams and the silent lull of energy can be heard in the air
She committed herself to a path with no return
You see they always said weed was a gateway drug but in fact it was the master key to a closet of brittle bones
He chopped up the powder with a credit card, 70’s Miami style
She watched as his nostrils flared,
His head moved like a crop duster over a field
And just like that the line of cocaine was sitting between his septum
“Cmon’ one hit won’t hurt”
It’s ironic how his white lie caused her to do white lines just to find out that black-hearted truths can sometime disguise themselves as experience
You see something was triggered that day
A tsunami came and destroyed the beach head,
More babies were born not breathing than normal,
And her body began to produce more chemicals than ever
Maybe that’s why they call it dope because of the dopamine that was delivered directly to her blood stream
She was officially “off the shits”
And ever since then her system was only stable if there was a soft white substance filling her nostrils
You see cocaine is a hell of a drug, that causes us to see heaven so how could she say no when purgatory isn’t a place to be
Days past, dollars spent, cigarettes smoked to the menthol filter tip
and in one uneventful moment
A calm Thursday evening
She dropped dead
So coked up that a fizz could be felt if you came close to her
Her friends found her face first in her room
Vomit lurching out of her throat like dry playdoh
There was no Vincent Vega to strike her heart with adrenaline
An overdose is like a disease that infects you when you are healthiest
It’s a quiet death that often goes unnoticed by the soul
And all that remains is what existed before we borrowed the atoms of the universe
so by the time it’s too late the body has already been abandonded
Her heart and organs operating on autopilot, muscles contracting uncontrollably as tremors quake through her tendons
Her nerves resembling sparks of lightning which caused so much rapid eye movement that she dreamed during the entire event
Watching God and Scarface play for King of The World
~J. Varina
The Nuclear Cottage 