Jack has a problem by Samantha Zaphiris

jack has a problem

dear jack,
she loved you.
and you loved heroin.
she chose you,
and you chose heroin.
 
dear jack,
i know it is not your fault.
remember when you were afraid of flu shots?
you would hold onto your mother's arm
now she’s clenching on to yours wondering if you could
possibly cough up blood
or show signs of life
 
dear jack,
we sat on the dock at three am and talked about us.
the words became slurred between bags of cocaine
and i couldn’t do it.
the floors sank from underneath me and i was gone.
a mixture of broken twilights in the form of a girl and the crackling sounds of an am radio.
 
dear jack,
my downward spiral helped our love indefinitely.
the drugs allowed my vulnerability and the reason for you to keep using.
i hate the metaphor between love and drugs.
because love is not a drug: cocaine is a drug, heroin is a drug. hell, even marijuana and aspirin are drugs.
but love is not a drug.
i didn’t get addicted to the idea of you i got addicted to the idea of you off of drugs.
i could never kiss you without tasting my own whiskey breath and your daily pack of marlboros.
 
dear jack,
they told me i would die.
six months later i am in the airport waiting for the rehabilitation decorum to start once again.
twelve months later i find out you had a funeral without me.
i  found out there was no grave, but the remnants of the ashes your parents threw out.
“it’s better to not have a son than a drug addict son.”
two months later i called your phone every night hoping you’d pick up.
i went through our text messages and i found your dealer's phone number
he was arrested three weeks later. i called in.
i blamed everyone possible,
his parents, his grandparents, his fucking dog, his friends, the money his parents left in a glorified trust fund.
but mostly, i blamed myself.
i blamed the scars on my thighs that slipped out of their hiding place during sex.
i blame the nights he caught me throwing up dinner into the kitchen sink
or the first time he saw the girl he supposedly love lose herself to cocaine.
i blamed the terminal at the airport for separating him and i, the drugs and i, him and the drugs.
 
dear jack,
who else is there to blame?
it was you all along.
i might still love you, and i might have loved you with such an intensity then that i choked on my words,
but you had no right to pass your pain to me.

Bio: Samantha Zaphiris is an author originating from Pennsylvania, but finds herself living most often in her head, which furthermore is above the clouds. She’d like to consider herself an author, and writes poetic verse in her free time. Apart from writing, she is an advocate for ending the stigma surrounding mental health, an avid music lover and or musician, a sucker for old movies, and the girl who wants to be friends with just about everyone. Her struggles with anorexia nervosa have shaped her writing into what it is today, and is still molding who she is as a person. You can most often find her at quaint diners, local music shops, or on www.samanthazaphiris.tumblr.com

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