Lindsey Engle

“And then something invisible snapped insider her, and that which had come together commenced to fall apart.”
― John Green, Looking for Alaska

“I am not so much fun
Anymore;
Couldn’t carry the role of ingenue
In a bucket, you say, laughing.

And I want to punch you.
I was never innocent, but
Thanks to you I know things
I wish I did not remember.

You don’t like it
When I talk to the man myself,
Specifying quantities and
Give him the money
Instead of giving it to you
And letting you take care of it.

You keep asking me,
Where’s the dope?
Until I finally say,
I hid it.
The look you give me is
Pure bile.

Well, fuck you.
This isn’t like Buying somebody a drink.
You don’t leave your stash out
Where I might find it.

Finally I think I’ve made you wait
Long enough,
So I get out the little paper envelope
And hand it to you.
You are still in charge of
This part, so you relax.
Performing your junky ritual with
Your favorite razor blade, until
I ask you how to calculate my dose
So I won’t O.D. when I do this
And you’re not around.

Then you really flip.
You tell me it’s a bad idea
For me to do this with other people.

**

Was it such a good idea
For me to do it with you?
Do you wait for me to turn up
Once every three months
So you can get high?
Is this our version of that famous
Lesbian fight about
Nonmonogamy?

Let me tell you what I don’t like.

I don’t like it when you
Take forever to cut up brown powder
And cook it down and
Suck it up into the needle
And measure it, then take
Three times as much for yourself
AS you give me.

I don’t like it when you
Fuck me
After you’ve taken the needle
Out of my arm.

You talk too much
And spoil my rush.
All I really want to do
Is listen to the tides of blood
Wash around inside my body
Telling me everything is
Fine, fine, fine._
And I certainly don’t want to
Eat you or fuck you
Because it will take forever
To make you come,
If you can come at all,
And by then the smack will have worn off
And there isn’t any more.

I’m trying to remember
What the part is that I do like.
I think this shit likes me
A lot more than I like it.

Now you’re hurt and angry because
I don’t want to see you again
And the truth is,
I would love to see you,
As long as I knew you were holding.

So you tell me
Is this what you want?
I bet it was what you wanted
All along.”
― Patrick Califia

“That was what she really wanted. To forget so thoroughly she'd never have another memory again, the bitter so bitter you gave up the sweet.”
― Janet Fitch, Paint it Black

“My mate Karl once told me he’d been looking after this five-year-old boy who – not knowing enough to have an ironic inflection to his words – said, ‘I want something.’ He didn’t know what it was. Not ‘I want sweets’, or ‘a can of Coke’, or ‘to watch the Tweenies’, or whatever it is they’re into now (I like Bagpuss), but ‘I want something.’ All of us, I think, have that feeling. And what heroin does when you first start taking it is tell you what that something is.”
― Russell Brand, My Booky Wook