Midnight Apparition at Two A.M.~ by Danielle Dragon
It’s slightly paradoxical that I rely on you for solace, for relief from the horrors that seize
me instantly upon opening my eyes each day. I curse the arrival of the morning sunlight,
beaming like a jagged laser through my filthy bedroom window, shepherding in the
arrival of a new day that I wish would never come. Dope driven fiend in Manhattan’s
squalid streets. You’re my Savior. Messiah. Blasphemy blankets my tongue like a thick
coat, warm denial. You’re there to resurrect me when truth is too close to touch, burning
and tearing through my skin, flesh falling, suffocating reality. The glowing city lights.
The dealer on the corner.
When my brain is marred by today’s sunset or last night’s dawn, you quell my hunger
with high powered dope, feeding my insatiable illusions, numbing my grief,
anesthetizing, deadening until I feel human again. I buy serenity like a book off a shelf. I
buy tranquility instead of enduring endless waiting for my guts to cease from crawling
with gnawing regret that pangs in the hollow recess of where my core used to be.
Everyone has a cross in life to bear. Mine just happens to be a divine aberration. A curse.
I’ve become a stranger to myself. Walking death, sinking deeper into nothingness. You
glow hot fire, demonic eyes that shine gentle ice. You’re a beatific vision, junkie man, a
gift from the God Almighty to us below. We’re your apostles who line these city streets
like beggars in waiting. You’re worthy of our prayers, magic man, who else can turn their
blood into dope?
And then she raised her young face to the black sky, glittering with burning stars, thanked
God for His abundant harvest and without thinking, shot it right into a waiting vein
screaming for nourishment, fulfillment, like a baby begging for another taste of mother’s
milk from a weary nipple. Then dawn broke a second time.
I write from the heart. I want to touch others with my experiences and I want to give my words the ability to transform.