“Give us the works.

I need it, like now.”

Slowly drawing the stuff into

The plastic syringe in jerks.

Senses alive to sight and smell.

He tightened the tourniquet

Another twist, watching

His bruised veins swell.

Today had not been good.

No dough to feed his monkey.

A quick mugging in the lane

Luckily not much blood.

OK Snowman here’s the bread.

Just enough for a few grams more,

Enough to escape for another night.

The pin prick - the vein will be fed.

Slowly the plunger is withdrawn

He watched his blood enter the tube.

Patterns formed as the red swirled in,

Hypnotising. Flowering. Re-born.

Then ease the thumb down and…

“Oh my God, that’s so good.

What did you cut this with mate?”

“Sod all man– It’s pure H.”

Drifting, dreaming.

Then dreaming

No more