his disorder

my son's blood dropped to the floor

rich red
to the
cold hard
floor
silently

perfect circle with other tiny circles
surrounding

the nurse panicked
plastic gloves
wipe ups
blood from a crazy
what could it bring?

plop

drop

blood...

"when i can't drink or get high
i feel like self-destructing...
just so ya know
...just so ya know"

the needle pierced his
well muscled
well tattooed arm
i didn't hear the blood fall
i didn't know the rush
i couldn't see the injection
but i saw it when it fell
my eyes followed
my heart followed
my thoughts scattered
i saw a young man
i saw a baby
i remembered prayers
i felt the helplessness
my feelings froze

but maybe all would be right now
at least for two weeks
until the next shot
until the next link
to my son's survival

his disorder is not contagious
yet he is so isolated

where his choices are born
he has twisted them
and contorted reality
groping for hope
groping for salvation
groping for love

which he always receives

"mom love"