what chance

Eyes like lumps of lifeless coal, a memory failing while speech is slow.

Facial features beginning to cave in.

Heart pounding while hands are shaking.

Rolling up his sleeve, he wraps a piece of cloth around his arm.

Using his teeth like a second hand, he pulls it as tight as he can.

Teetering on the edge of his chair, he reaches for his trusty syringe.

Unable to accept the damage and danger.

He slowly pushes the needle in.

As the shaking slowly stops,the euphoria begins.

His body rapidly gives in.

Convulsing on the floor, he's alone behind closed doors.

His life ebbing away,

while the dealers recruit new clients each day.