Needles Broke the Doll

You wounded my soul.

You poked needles into my heart.

You lied to me about the “whys” and the “hows”.

The meat of the story.

The most important part.

I was fed sours lies to make those around you look awful, and you look like an angel.

I had to find out your intentions on my own.

Drugs made you a thief and a liar.

I took you under my wing like a wounded bird.

I sheltered you.

I defended you.

I wanted to see you grow and be able to make it in this world alone without other people.

You proved to me you were not the person I once knew and loved.

This drove a deep wedge between us.

Needles broke the doll and now she is filled with holes that let the light in.

Like a single plate of china,

that not even super glue can fix.

We had grown apart over the years.

I should have known when you contacted me out of the blue and wanted to move in that your intentions were not pure.

That you wanted me to dig you out of the hole you had gotten yourself into.

The sound of your voice and plea for help were foreign to me.

Your mannerisms were even different.

Who was this person in my friend’s skin?

Your heart wasn’t even in the right place.

You have the devil of addiction inside you.

It used your body as a puppet.

You were too ashamed to tell me the truth.

To let me know the real reason you were evicted from your apartment and lost your job.

You were never the angel you made me believe you were.

You brought everything on yourself.

Needles broke the doll and now she is filled with holes that I can see the light through.

The devil inside you asked to move in and live off of me.

Because I had my head on straight.

Because I once loved you like a sister and would do anything for you.

Because I was one of your last options.

Never again will we skip stones across the river near my parent’s house.

Or hang out on the walking bridge and tell ghost stories to try and freak each other out.

We won’t stay up all night drinking iced cappuccinos and playing monopoly.

We won’t gossip about boys we like or confine secrets to each other.

I am not the first person you called.

But I was the last.

Life is much different now.

You put a French braid in my hair once and we listened to Alice Cooper CDs on your broken down CD player that required a broken eyeliner stick to use to press play.

Perhaps you were always missing buttons like that stereo but I just didn’t care or realize how many buttons you were actually missing in your brain.

I loved you the same.

I let you sleep with the fan on, even though I was cold.

The truth unraveled slowly like a ball of yarn a kitten was playing with.

Only this ball of yarn was not cute nor cuddly.

Heroin destroys your dreams, your friendships, and the roof over your head.

You believed you were a rockstar for being an addict.

You believed you were cool for losing weight and becoming a malnourished skeleton.

I fed you fruit and tried to get you healthy.

I ignored the track marks on your arms.

I ignored your many bruises.

I ignored the many questions I should have asked.

Needles broke the doll and made her into someone that I no longer recognize.

Someone I can no longer trust.

I must walk this path in solitude.

I must close off my home to those who are sheep wearing the devils clothing.

I cannot be tricked by who you used to be,

Or how I used to fell.

Needles changed the doll into someone I no longer know or can associate with.

Ending this friendship wounded my soul.

I think of her often and hope she put down the needle, went to rehab and got her head on straight.

I can only watch from a distance.

She stood me up on the second chance I gave her.

She buys clothing from thrift stores and leaves it whenever she moves to another location.

She wanted to shop my closet for free,

for nothing in return.

Until the next time, she calls an old friend in need of a place to stay.

She will leave anything I give her behind.

*This poem is featured in "Peeling Sanity" Due for release in October 2018. Be sure to check out my other poetry collections on Amazon.

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