DRUGS Poem: On Soft Undoing, by Che Baines

Silver sparks and smoke curls
in my spirit colours of fire,
ribbons dancing on the wind
as I pull it down.

I sink into this concrete that knows me,
remembers my name
calls me home
lays me down
into long-sought forgetting.

My blood sings soft hymns
of a chorus burning bright,
then letting me go.
I am undone
and revel in it.

A breath called relief
forms deep in my once-raw throat.
Sunlight drips honeyed through leaves
onto grass I’ve made my bed.
I am free as I flicker in and out.

Aluminum cradles my craving.
Foil, a comfort food now.
Sighs lift my lungs as my head sags
to my aching chest.
Giving in never felt so good.

There are ghosts here
but I don’t mind.
They stand guard and hold me.
Safe in their arms made of vapour,
I am home.

The hush grows, my eyelids heavy
forming pillows on salted cheeks.
Burn lines are roads to better days
as I hover over this body
I yearn to leave.