you might call it.
Work. Home. Work
again, all
up and down.
I’ve tried to keep
cool about my use.
But I can’t not get
high,
especially in the early
A.M., have to get to work,
deal with that crap.
And
then I go home, deal
with that crap too.
That brings me down, way
low,
especially since I’ve only
heard from Trey twice
in two weeks.
Still,
Mom and Scott have tried
to leave me alone. In fact,
; they’ve remained mostly
silent,
despite their assessing
stares, which must confirm
every suspicion. Hunter
cries
a lot, it seems. I do my best