Writers’ Weir: Three poems on heroin
Published 8:03 am Wednesday, October 5, 2016
HEROIN
You thief of dreams
steal with your tricks of illusion
giving one dream
at the price of another
Your hunger grows
with the blood
of my veins
Yet I no longer
grow full
No pain
no sorrow
on the path to nowhere
Blood-tainted ceilings
match worn edges
no promises before me
I sacrifice all
I dream in the bathroom
next to the altar
where I kneel to pray.
ADDICT
BY TERRIE WELLS
you bet
on your mortality
you think you are bullet proof
yet
one day
life will take you
by the hand
and make you bleed
without ever
drawing a weapon
BUSH TUCKER
BY TERRIE WELLS
You left me more
Than food for thought
when you filled my plate.
You, who dared to defy my fear
saw my armor
as thin skin
You would not allow me the key
to the door
I always slammed behind
giving me no reason
to keep the lock
You who reflected me
without my shadow
gave me a candid look
at myself
and the more tears
I wiped away
the clearer I became.
• Terrie Wells was born and raised in Ketchikan, where she returned two years ago. “The message is always hope,” she wrote. “The opening door is hopelessness. It is temporary. Hope is not.”
• To submit to Writers’ Weir, email your poetry, fiction or creative nonfiction to managing editor Mary Catharine Martin at maryc.martin@capweek.com.
