Jeanette Cheezum’s most recent poem to appear here was A Southern Lady (February 2015).
High
By Jeanette Cheezum
She needed one to get up and one to get down;
one to get in and more to get out.
All the distorted faces didn’t understand.
No matter how much she took she couldn’t escape.
She lay on the floor so she wouldn’t fall.
Everyone was too tall or she was too small.
Veins gaped open and looked bitter,
eyes lifeless, sunken voids. Shoulders slumped
and no one cared.
Where’s the next fix? No more stash.
Gotta turn some tricks–Never the same
man who cares. Who has the potion?
Keep searching for the next glory.
Tell them, do them, whatever they want.
If I rip a hole in my throat, will I bleed
or just continue to need?
Don’t plug me up–I want to bleed,
let it all run out, so I can’t feel my need.
Let me lay in the gutter not able to eat
even bread and butter.
My guts are turning inside out–
not even the heat of summer can warm me.
I’m so cold. Get me some. Just one more time.
No one can escape the devastation or isolation this woman endures. The imagery of this poem tells the story of being hooked on drugs and a terrible way of life. “High” leaves us a powerful message that makes us sad without much hope for the recovery of the woman.
I liked the poem very much.
Wow, Jeanette, this poem is so powerful. You really captured the need to get high. I am in awe.
Thanks, Bobbie and Jeanette.