Fix to Fix
First a whiff, a tiny puff, “What harm in it
could be?”
Then another, his mind began drifting away, rent
free.
Within the smokey haze another place, calm
and relaxed,
A mysterious feeling found, as his vision
waned and waxed.
So warm inside, he surrendered and slowly
floated away,
“Oh, the pleasure felt!” as his cognizance began
to sway.
Like a strong sedative, no pain, his body went
all numb,
His mind hijacked, his thinking completely out
of plumb.
Each fix a much stronger dose, to reach the
euphoric state,
In time, the innate urge to consume more, would
not abate.
As the endorphins raged and partied inside
his frontal lobe,
His emotions sparking, all the neurons flashing
like a strobe.
Hallucinations bouncing around, the momentum increased,
His cortex craved more, and more, to feed the
wild beast.
As the speed increased, toward the cliff, the
ecstasy crashed,
Back into the chasm, the depressing hole, his
mind trashed.
I saw within his sunken eyes, the world of
highs and lows,
In riding the tides, the euphoric crests and the
undertows.
Drifting on crack and ecstasy, then hitting the
bottom hard,
In brainless mindless states, his poor soul was
blown apart.
And every time he loaded another nasty fix
into the breach,
He climbed the euphoric wave, and smashed upon
the beach.
So why did he subject his body to all this abuse
and strain,
Leaving his being so sick, floundering flat
and drained?
Circe, I have seen your handy work, the ones
you stalk,
In such a filthy state, languishing on the city
sidewalks.
Addicted to your mindless fixes, hanging out
for more,
On the awful mind-numbing drugs that they
have scored.
Why do you prey upon them in their weakened
state,
Causing this addictive self-destruction, that
won’t abate.
Degrading and subjecting them to your scurrilous
abuse,
Destroying them with the fatal overdoses,
that you infuse.
Like debris drifting in and out, from fix to
fix within the void,
Inside your wicked curse, you leave them
desolate and paranoid.
Upon city streets, drifting like trash, as
the world passes by,
Their runny noses, their red-shot eyes, and
mouths all dry.
We hear the hacking coughs, that make our
stomachs turn,
We abhor the wasted lives, the brains that
you have burned.
The acrid smell of them, rising from where
they have been,
Their ragged clothes, bodies unkempt,
smelling like latrines.
They shake, they scream, they writhe, to the
sound of dread,
You force yourself, against their will, and occupy
their heads.
Letting loose grotesque demons that keep them
under siege,
In desperation to escape they sell their
souls to your liege.
Committing horrendous crimes within their addicted
state,
Your relentless greed to consume their lives
does not abate!
As they lust, that delusional state, in fix to
fix they crave,
Your disease devouring them until they fill another
grave.
Written By: Alan.Clark@WW1POET (November 2026)
