To Heroin.

I was at a house party in Chicago.
With a friend that I had known since I had left Ohio.
We were just sitting down and a few drinks were passed around.
And people started leaving.
And the alcohol started deceiving.
The lights went out.
I opened a bedroom door.
And I saw my friend, face down on the floor.
Some poor little girl was in the corner, staring at the body.
She was shaking, she was quivering.
I checked his pulse, then I closed his eyes.
I’ll tell you this, though, I wasn’t surprised.
I had seen that look of heroin on another friend that had died.
And I turned to the toddler looking for answers.
She said,
“And the needle went in.
And the man went out.”