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Reality stroke my eyes
From the moment I noticed
The reflections of the woman in the mirror

Hello, my name is Becky
I live on the Hay hill avenue
My house is the one next to the Pot’s
My associates refer to me as Looney Becky.

It all started long, far ago
Then, a lovely, kind, young lady I used to be.
Naive to the sun
Innocent to the moon;
When It made my acquaintance.
I was just a newbie in the dorm
So my peers were my concern.

Oh my very first day!
My first trial…
It manifested in me like the joy of a thousand stars.
The second time around
It conducted me into this delusional world;
My environment appeared like Eden was being in the midst of the earth.
Danced without music being played
Laughed without any joke being told
Levitated without being on a spaceship
And so, times have gone by
It had turned around on me.
It had enslaved my whole being.
It had become vindictive.
It took my all rights...
Not even the right to turn onto my faith
Not to even say hail Mary full of grace our Lord is with thee.
It had destroyed my brain cells.
It had robbed me of my education.
Through It I had grown the pair of horns.

Now to you!
You should know by now
Why I’m Looney Becky?
You would not want to follow my path.
You would not want to dance my moves.
You would not want to sing my song.
You would not want to mimic me at all.
I am brain dead!

Yeah you!
Young and sweet
Seems just the right description for It;
So very the right prey
Now I see It parading at your door steps
Be very alert
Cautious must you take
Clever you shall be
It constitutes of ruse
It has a way of arousing onto you.
It, is nothing but pretense
Offers sky rocket ecstasy
Just for a split moment
It is a brain fryer

Yeah you!
Don’t become
The woman in the mirror
She is me
The unrecognized being

My name is Becky
An addict!
© 2011 by _Patricia Etienne
All rights reserved

A note from the Author
This is a stand-up poem
Being a Nurse and through my overtime observations/ experienced with friends/ patients battled with long time drug addiction had allowed me to write this poem.

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