The tip, such an elegant angle.
Pierces so sweetly.
The pain a prelude to the sweetest release, a letting go.
Open my arms, open yours.
Welcoming.
My heart pounds, my thoughts dim and slow.
Clarity remains, but the swirl and hectic rush gets crystallized and sharpens even as it eddies ever slower.
My damnable dervish mind frozen in technicolor time.
My universe quiets, the pulse drumming in my ears recedes.
A quiet breathing ocean moving with the grand swells of tides and tectonics.
The syringe rolls empty from my hands.
I am home.
A/N: Inspired by the song Black Milk by Massive Attack