(This poem is composed from phrases in the first pages of James Frey's, A Million Little Pieces)
I sit in the chair by the window staring
I don’t know what I’m staring at
It’s dark and it’s late
The drugs are wearing off
I take more pills
And I feel the pills kicking in
I smoke a cigarette
It burns
A man walks in
Tracks crisscross his forearms
Scars run the length of his wrists
I look in his eyes
They’re blank
The pills are kicking in
Nothing registers
He stares at me and he chews his nails
He spits them at me
But the pills are in and the bugs are gone
I don’t care
Nothing registers
Everything slows down
Slows down beyond recognition
The image blurs, the voices fade
There is no action and no noise
Just flickering lights
A symphony of withered voices
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