a young man's brush with drug addiction

 

Pounding waves

invade the shores of my imagination,

salt-washed pebbles bruise my aching feet,

discordant voices ride the onshore breezes

and mock the need to close my eyes in sleep.

I watch the tide's incessant motion,

see peaks and troughs as win or lose,

hear gulls harsh scream of exultation

as they hunt the silver flesh in shallow pools.

my body aches with fear and craving,

I bite my lip but feel no pain,

will tomorrow have a meaning?

will tomorrow come again?