I roll ash between finger and thumb, attempting to pick up the perfect cylinder left in place of my forgotten cigarette. But it disintegrates at my touch, leaving black soot on my fingertips. I regard my hands carefully, as I continue rubbing thumbs against each finger in turn, double checking. But it's exactly what I feared...the long fingers of both hands are weirdly numb, and even though I can move them normally, I have the disturbing mental image of my mother slicing hot dogs with a butterknife and dropping the pieces into the macaroni and cheese.

I'm sitting on my bathroom floor again, it's 5:00AM on a Monday, first week of November. I look up, spotting myself in the full length mirror, yesterday's eyeliner smeared and smudged from where I'd swiped at my eyes earlier. Hair piled on top of my head in a messy bun, tendrils escaping to tickle against my neck, and I have to look away from my reflection which sickens me. Up all night, depressed, drunk, exhausted, strung out, high as a kite, rode rough and put away wet...it doesn't matter... my reflection continues to taunt me with the appearance of an attractive, competent woman. I snort sardonically at the thought and look away, afraid to make eye contact with the mirror me. Afraid to be confronted with the truth in my own lifeless eyes.

The tears are gone now, dried up with the absence of sadness, anger and even happiness. A blessing? Maybe. I'm numb, from tips of fingers, to tips of toes, to scalp, all the way through the cold, heavy lump that used to be my heart. Even the hateful echoes of regret and insecurity which used to play on a continual loop through my mind have at last gone quiet.

Surprisingly, I hate it... it makes me uneasy. I've been chasing the numb for so many years... thinking this was what I wanted, every puff toked, every line snorted, every single bottle and bong rip and pill were all bringing me to that perfect utopia, where life doesn't hurt and love isn't crushed by indifference. I'm fully aware of the irony - totally sober, I have finally achieved complete desensitized detachment, after all these years of addiction and obsession. And now that I'm finally numb, all I want is to feel something. Anything that will convince me that my body is more than a shell carrying a dead soulless wretch.

I take the still burning cigarette from the ashtray then and carefully grind it out on the soft, smooth skin of my thigh. The sizzle is like a lullaby as the fire is extinguished, the stench of burning skin, the white hot fire that opens a hole on my leg are welcomed by my sharp intake of breath. I exhale in a relieved and satisfied sigh, because I FEEL, dear Lord, I FEEL pain, that means I am still here and I'm still human and feeling something is better than nothing, so I'm winning, triumphant again. My throbbing pulse can be seen on the edges of the burn, and it's screaming in protest at the willful destruction of perfectly good skin, but still....it's my favorite pain. The best pain is the kind that I inflict on myself, that I relish and wrap up in, I cherish and hold it closely and breathe in deep it's scent and wring every last drop of pleasure, and the pleasure outweighs the pain every time. Every time, the pain brings the pleasure in alternating waves that no one gives me as good as I give myself. The adrenaline rush is my latest drug of choice, and it's as addictive as every other high I've chased and cherished above all else in my life.

It's 6:00AM now and my right hand is steady as it carves long, straight lines in a row down the length of my left forearm with my favorite razor knife. Bloody paper towels on the floor are proof of my humanity. I am dead inside, yet the dead don't bleed, and the solid proof of my existence is running down my arm in flowing streams that look like the fancy red ribbons I once wore in my hair.

6:05AM and my cell phone buzzes and my brow furrows at the text from my Number One. "I'm going back to prison," it says and I blink in confusion, first at the bad news and second at the time. Number One never texts me before 9pm. Curiosity wins and I reply "What happened?"

Number One and I have been screwing for 5 months now. He's probably the most honest relationship I currently have, he knows I refer to him by a number and that there are others. I am also aware I'm not the only woman in his life. He likes the way I never ask to sleep over, I like the way he never tries to bullshit me with false concern or unnecessary lying. We hook up once a week or so, I go to his place where he provides a thoroughly satisfying distraction for 2-3 hours at a time. It's no surprise we've become friends, that's what happens when it's 2AM and the town is asleep, but he and I are smoking cigarettes on the patio under the vast desert sky. Together, yet alone, burdened with so much guilt and ugliness inside us that it's no wonder the sex is phenomenal. He knows that to silence my inner turmoil, he has to pound into me with enough force to flatten every demon in Hell. It works well that his own demons also quiet temporarily when he's buried inside me, my legs around his waist, hot breath on his neck gasping my approval. And on some of those nights, in a drunken haze or post-coital fog... somehow I've learned many of his darkest secrets and given him a few of my own in return.

When I met him, he was 4 days free after serving 3 years. At 19 years old, he'd been drunk behind the wheel and when he wrecked his truck, his best friend was dead. One millisecond, one bad choice, one wrong decision and two families were changed forever. So many lives blown apart in an instant. He's 23 years old now, consumed by shame and remorse and regret, leaving his soul blacker than any I've ever known, including my own. And it's a sick thing, but I believe it was the first time I caught a glimpse of his darkest demons that I opened my heart to him a tiny bit. There's something beautifully tragic in his pain, or maybe my fucked up mind just sees brokenness and hurt and finds it irresistible.

And now it's 6:07AM on a Monday in November and I'm reading his text that he'd been arrested on Saturday night, charged a Drunk In Public, which bored cops in this small town like to give out to people walking home when the bars close. Which seems like entrapment in a way, drive or walk, you may be arrested after the bar. Nevertheless, the law is the law, and his parole agreement carries a condition that he must not be arrested or consume alcohol, otherwise parole will be revoked and he'll be sent back to prison to serve the remaining 5 years of his sentence.

I can feel the desperation between his words as the messages fly back and forth. He's terrified to go back and I don't blame him. I'm saddened again at the whole situation. I've gotten to know his demons, they've had him in a chokehold since the accident that altered the path of so many lives, and they'll torment him far more than any prison sentence ever could. Already serving 3 years by age 23 seems like enough punishment to me, and I tell him so. He asks if I'd feel the same if it was my son who'd lost his life and I can't answer, because I don't lie to my Number One and I honestly don't know.

Texting:

I'm not going back - #1

They won't send you back, they can't! - me

They can and they will - #1

Oh God, I hope not! - me

I fucked up again, I gotta pay - #1

It's unfair, you've paid enough - me

I'm not going back, for real - #1

Wanna run away to Tahiti with me? - me

Nah. I'm gonna kill myself. - #1

My eyes widen and my heart begins racing, I can feel my blood pressure rise as it rushes through my veins like river rapids. My skin is icy cold fire, it is suddenly tingling, hair standing at attention, nerve endings awakened, opened up like blooming flowers waiting to be pollenated. Suddenly, the self harm, the pain is nothing, the blood still making its way down my forearm is meaningless, and the numb detachment is wiped away in those 4 life altering words.

Are you serious? - me

Yeah - #1

What about your family? - me

All I do is hurt them - #1

I don't know what to say. - me

Say goodbye, I guess - #1

I don't want to. When you gonna do this? - me

I don't know. Today. Tomorrow. -#1

How? - me

Why the questions? You gonna call the cops? - #1

I don't call cops, you know that - me

Then what? Gonna talk me out of it? - #1

Could I talk you out of it? - me

Nah. - #1

Well then I have one last request - me

Damn, girl. You're insatiable! - #1

Well, you should fuck me senseless at least one more time. But that's not my request. -me

I'm listening. - #1

Wait for me. - me

Wait for you, what? Huh? #1

I've been sitting here for 2 hours cutting myself. Fuck it. I'm over it. I tried and failed before. So wait for me. Don't kill yourself until I get there. Let's do it together.

Two minutes pass and I feel like a fool for revealing too much of my own black soul. Then my phone buzzes again and he's asking now if I'm serious and what about my son and I'm crying with the certainty that I've damaged my son beyond repair and perhaps my absence from his life would actually be healthier for him. Lord knows I've been failing miserably at motherhood for 16 years now. And I tell him yes, I'm absolutely serious, let's do it together, it'll be easier together and as I'm typing my racing heart slows, a calm settles over my whole body and I'm feeling content with the decision to end my broken life with this broken boy.

He tells me to come over around 8, a bit earlier than my usual visiting time, and I reply giddily, feeling like I'd been asked to prom by the football captain. And all day long, he's on my mind. All day long I'm back and forth, delicious anticipation mixing with cold fear, meanwhile the hunger for pain gnaws at me, but I don't pick up any sharp objects, I'm holding off, an addict delaying my next fix knowing it could be the last and best high of my life.

And when I get off work I go home and clean my room and straighten up my apartment. I prepare for our suicide pact with perfect makeup, hair curled becomingly, and an outfit I know he'll appreciate. I kiss my son goodbye, reminding him how much I love him and I head to Number One's house.

Pulling in the drive, parking my car, still giddy with breathless anticipation. The front door opens as I approach, he's there, the light behind him turns his body into a dark silhouette. With his chiseled chest and abs clearly delineated, veins popping out of forearms, and muscles rippling under smoothly perfect skin covered in tattoos, he makes me think of a dark angel, one of God's chosen who somehow managed to tumble and fall all the way to Hell.

Number One reaches towards me, his hand cups the back of my neck as he draws me near for a kiss, and I realize Hell suits this boy better than Heaven ever could. His tongue slips in between my lips as he lets me know Hell is much more fun anyway. I step over the threshold, and I'm pinned against the wall, his hands and lips running over my face and neck. My hands cup his face and find moisture where the tears are falling silently, and I lean forward to kiss them away. He reaches around me and then the front door is shut and locked. And we're alone, him and I, celebrating the damaged portions of ourselves that brought us together, falling headlong into the white hot lust that shines brighter than the blackness in both our souls combined.

Hand in hand, I follow him into the bedroom.

Hold me tightly in your arms

I want to gaze at your eyes

Getting lost in the forest

Run my nails across your back

Watch the goosebumps on your arms

Lick your lips and taste your mouth

Ripe and juicy and eager

Trace my fingers over your chest

Muscles flexing involuntary

Feel your hard body against my softness

Join your rhythm and beat

Breathe your breath

Taste the sweat on your skin

As I kiss and bite your flesh

Have you fill me, complete me

Then lay together spent

And enjoy the blissful silence

Thereʼs music that haunts my memories;

The psalms of forbidden, tragic love.

To you, I belong …

And I know it's wrong…

•When we dance, press your body to mine•

Since our first kiss…

I couldn't resist…

If only we'd never crossed that line.

It built up for months, before we acted…

I think that we both tried to hold back…

I know you're a flirt…

And what does it hurt?

•We should've left well enough alone.•

If I had said no…

If I'd let you go…

It's my own fault, I should've known.

Our first kiss was stolen at midnight…

We found ourselves alone yet again…

The look of your lips…

Your hand on my hips…

•I remember the twinkle in your eye.•

The cinnamon whiskey…

Got you feeling frisky…

You lean in, gonna give me a try.

The brush of your lips is a question…

The softness of your kiss is a tease…

You're awfully cute…

You're forbidden fruit…

•If I was smart, I would push you away.•

But I'm a big flirt…

So I grab your shirt…

Now kiss me, 'til my world melts away.

The spark was ignited, then exploded…

An inferno we didn't see coming…

Fire out of control…

Lust swallows me whole…

•Feelings that both feed and consume.•

The choices I made…

Left families betrayed….

Your love sends me straight to my doom.

You watched, as I finally pulled the trigger…

It's done now, there's no turning back…

Your love is intense…

My love is immense…

•I was reckless when I blew up my life.•

The fallout's no fun…

But the damage is done…

It all started with a kiss like a knife.

Life was bliss, for a time, we were happy…

Head over heels, hopelessly in love.

Through all the drama…

The torment, the trauma…

•You were there, you swore you'd be true.•

I would have died…

Without you by my side…

I never dreamed that I'd lose you too.

I guess it was too much to expect of you.

You're so young, you just weren't ready.

Your eyes remained dry…

As you kissed me goodbye…

•I'm left with the mess you helped make.•

Kissing strangers distracts…

When the memory attacks…

While the bitterness turns love into hate.

Bound to chains that don’t make a sound…

All I hear is my name on your lips.

Once said with love, now cursing the day

Your eyes were spellbound by my hips…

I’m tied up with ropes that no one can see….

I'm knotted in the ties that bind…

I’m tangled and strangled, I'll never be free…

Foolish hope keeps my heart confined….

Its an ugly, dark cycle we’ve entered into….

Bullets fly out of anger and spite.

Suspicions explode as jealousy corrodes;

One of us will pick a stupid fight….

You say something dumb, I jump your shit…

Blind fury is bigger than the crime…

All the bad feelings we try to hold in

Will burst free, it’s just a matter of time.

Insecurity sucks, I’m sad and I’m scared…

There’s been so much hurt for so long….

I love you, I hate you, I need you, I fear you…

I don’t know how it all went so wrong.

I’m a mess of emotion, I'm up and I'm down;

You’ve never been safe or trustworthy.

You saved my soul from a wretched dark hole;

Then you stomped on my love without mercy.

We're too much alike; our demons are friends.

Our brains have the same broken parts.

We lash out or turn all the anger within

When driven by emotions of the heart.

I'm shackled to the memory of your love

You're gone but I can't let you go.

I'm bound by my own fears and regrets,

I'm bound by my dreams for tomorrow.

Patience wears thin

Love's pushed aside

Embracing distractions

Chasing that high

Frozen, in limbo

Uncertain, I'm stuck

Now I've run afoul

While he runs amok

Tell me you'll stay

Then kiss me goodbye

Meaningless words

Cowardly lies

Dark disappointment

Hardening hearts

Love's not enough

Trust isn't smart

Love everlasting

Disappeared fast

Together forever

Our time has passed

His hands are large,

they are calloused from hard work.

Arms strong enough

to keep me safe from harm.

He'll know how to help

when I've been running on "E."

I haven't gone far

on my good luck and charm.

He'll be brave as a soldier,

marching into battle.

He'll be loyal and honest,

I'll call him True Blue.

He'll be tender and kind,

he'll love my one eyed cat,

When he makes a promise,

he'll stay there to see it through.

His lips are soft and gentle,

when I'm feeling needy,

And size matters,

my True Blue is large.

He'll already know

when I need to take the lead,

And he'll know when

I need him to take charge.

He'll keep calm when I'm triggered,

freaking out,

He'll hold my hands,

telling me to breathe deep...

He'll wake me up, so I can get to work,

He'll snuggle close,

the big spoon while we sleep.

He'll have friends who will listen,

who will believe...

He won't be scared of some shady, dirty cops.

He'll stand right next to me,

so I won't stand alone

He knows why I spend hours,

sitting in parking lots.

He'll kiss my neck,

chills will run all through me.

He'll lay me down,

when we indulge every desire

He'll make me scream,

while my toes are curling

He'll take me there,

again and again, bodies on fire.

He'll wrap me up, a blanket of protection

He'll want my opinion,

he'll ask me for my thoughts

He'll be alpha,

he'll make sure to let it be well known,

There will be no more sickos,

whacked out psychos who stalk

He is hard and rigid,

where I am all softness

He is math and logic,

while I'm words and emotion

He's the light to my dark,

sunshine to the moon

True Blue has all my love

And all of my devotion.

If I put this cigarette out on my calf...

If my Friday night dress is bloody...

If I sleep all day, and skip work again...

If boys take tequila shots off my body...

If I trace the old scars with a new blade...

If I burn myself again with a glass pipe...

If I'm missing days, holes in my memory...

If my son is on the run and I can't help...

If the man I love left me all alone here...

If I cry hopeless tears on the bathroom floor...

If my brother doesn't answer when I call...

If the bruises on my legs are shaped like fists...

If I give blowjobs cuz a boy paid attention...

If he fucks me in the ass and I don't care...

If I crush these 14 green pills to powder...

If I carve AJEM into my stomach...

If I answer the fucking door on Day 15...

If I'm banging my own head on the wall...

If I just don't want to go on...

If I drink a 5th of gin in the hot tub...

If the tongue in my mouth is repulsive...

If I call the bluff of cops who like to bully...

If the oil in my vape is actually THC...

If the hotel crew knows me by my car...

If boys do lines of coke off my ass...

If my blood is dripping on the carpet...

If I get pictures of the cops' unofficial visits...

If my son is almost as scared as I am...

If I sit waiting all night for a phone call...

If my stupid feelings get hurt yet again...

If I'm sitting on the floor in my closet...

If the panties in my bed aren't mine...

If I get high and then I get higher...

If the one I love can't love me back enough...

If my scars stay hidden under clothing...

If my son takes the same dark path I did...

If the cat eats more food than I do...

If I wake up at 3PM in a stranger's bed...

If I broke the windows of my car in a rage...

If I'd give anything to make it stop hurting...

If my mattress grows heavy with blood...

If I'm coughing after hitting the bong...

If the boy in my bed has a wife and kids...

If I find my son's weed in the laundry...

If I hide inside, avoid all human contact...

If the class I should've taught today was

cancelled when I failed to show...

If I seek numb, cuz I gave up on happy...

If I found a way to stop my ex's revenge...

If I carve my son's name on my forearm...

If my voice interrupts Texas party time...

If I reach out for help, but everyone's busy...

If I'm screaming and lost and all alone...

If I slice the soft skin of my earlobe...

If I take a pair of clippers to my long hair...

If I'm missing when I picture the future...

If I fail to escape with my son in time...

If I'm tired of fighting and hiding

If I'm scared and have no where to run

If I'm sick of my fake smile and phony voice.

If i get tag teamed by two cops to purchase

my son's freedom...

If Texas is too busy, cuz it's Friday night...

If I'm a heartbroken wreck of foul shame...

If I'm dying here alone...

I've learned that it doesn't matter...

Nothing matters...

My pain, my joy, my fear, my hope, my love

It's not your problem...

I'm not your problem...

There's a liberation that comes with knowing

Nothing I do changes one damn thing....

There's a freedom that comes with acceptance

My feelings are mine alone to live with or not

There's an absolution in making the decision,

There is the sweetest sanctification

in giving up...