I dropped my heroin into the crib. I didn't know I had lost it until my boyfriend did not believe that I would lose drugs. We argued over $10 worth of tar. Forget the baby. Forget I could have killed a toddler.





I called the mother "hey I dropped my dope." Going out of my way to be a fucking hero.





"I flushed it down the toilet." Such painful words. Such painful fucking words. I dropped my heroin that I forgot I had and she flushed it down the toilet.





The mother ends up with the virus, the daughter ends up on the street. I end up clean. Well, we are all clean now. The insanity of having the junkie watch your kid. I liked the child- I loved her in fact. She was the product of a toss-up. The mother traded drugs for sex and ended up pregnant. That was how she ended up being the dealer. Trading sex for drugs then selling them.







We all trade something in that life. We trade out dignity. We trade our morals. We trade our self concept for a hit. I'm sitting on sheets with burn holes about to stab you in the eye with a broken spoon for nodding when I am sick. And I love him. We trade society for savagery and lick the blood from our arms in agreement.

One time I washed the dope dealer's dishes hoping for some crumbs. Or was that many times. Or cleaned their house. Or walked their dog. Or watched their kid.