Crushing Blow II

it's like living in a world full of cotton balls. all noises are background chatter, i can't connect with the passage of time. i lose minutes, even hours sometimes. i sit down on the couch at 5:30 then notice the hands of the clock passing 8:45. it's always twilight or dawn. somewhere in the half light. then the drugs where off and the world becomes sharp again, a world of knives and hammers. my vision corrects as my pupils undialate. it's hard to swim with the flood of awareness, if the people in the desks close by are watchful they can see me wince as i realize i waited too long between doses. take action. hold tab down and turn. undo the capsule and coat tongue in bitter powder. if you imagine hard enough it is a pixie stick, a really crappy pixie stick. swallow. eat capsule for good measure, who knows how much precious drug is left in there. wait. 5. 10. 15. minutes and the tide begins to go out. i only break the pills open when i need the fix quick. the voices around me dim, they become lanterns at the lighters call. the blazing reality settles behind the mountains. the world becomes cotton again. hopefully i can pay attention better the next go round.