He had phases. He had faces also. He was complicated. You couldn’t get a read on him.

Nobody knew about the battles he was facing. The war raging between the arm and the needle or the nose and the table.

He lived alone in a trailer off the street which was a likely area to host a trailer park. Worked all day high above the building and high above himself in the night.

Nobody knew where he lived and nobody knew anything. He worked just for the chemicals to run through his veins.

He didn’t know why he did it. Maybe he just gave up. He was tired of all this drama. He preferred his high over his life. The nights were his kingdom in the haven of his high.

He woke up in the morning again to work only to be fuelled by another bunch of chemicals that push further to get through the day. It just went on and on. He got so addicted to it that he kept on going and he quit his job and did it all day long now.

He wanted the high to last forever. He thought his life was in shambles but in reality he was the one who wrecked it. He did get the high he wanted.

He saw his body on the bed as he rose up sky high as his spirit.


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