Swallowed Up In Room 18
Second floor
just left of the wooden 
warped and rotted staircase
creaked even when it was bone-still
always knew when someone was coming
paranoia settled in behind the blinds 
of 18
The one chair
with a flattened
lime green cushion
round Formica table
overflowing ashtray
all the paraphernalia necessary 
to keep us in
while the sun sprayed such vivid
hues through the cracked blinds
On cold nights
the furious wind howled 
under the bloated moon
that ancient 
splintered staircase
squeaked and groaned
as you sat in the chair
and I perched on the edge of the bed
high to the point of tormented 
and sickly
we gulped water from the bathroom faucet
When the drugs were finished
we crept down the steps to meet the dealer
and rush back
to hole up in 18
for another week of wreckage