Hallucinating Hell Poem by Chase Gagnon

I miss the smell of the marijuana on your breath as we laughed at the world in the darkness of our filthy apartment. I used to hate the way it smelled, but I've been craving the contact high of your kiss. It's hard to believe that you're not breathing anymore, and your chest is motionless in the morgue. I refuse to believe that your lips are cold, and that you're lying naked without me there to touch you. Why would you leave me here alone? You were the only thing I had but I had everything in you. I found a strand of your hair on the pillow soaked in your nightmares, and then looked around our room hopelessly for your ghost. I don't know why I haven't cried… I guess there are just some things tears can never wash away, and I know you're one of ‘em.

I see the bottle of pills sitting on the nightstand. You placed them back so neatly before you drifted off, leaving only two in the clear orange container that glows like a grinning jack-o-lantern under the lamplight in an otherwise dark room. Two isn't enough to kill me, but maybe I could get a decent buzz and visit you in a hallucination of hell, where you sit before the devil's throne sucking his red ****. I'll vanquish him with the light of our love and take his throne, then get a boner for your lips that are warm again. We'll reside here forever and never get another eviction notice until the end of days, when we'll spiral into a never-ending darkness with the demons who scream almost as loud as you when I caress your **** in a world where sinners are saints.

There is of course, the possibility that none of that bull**** is real... and that you're nothing now, just a body that I should steal before it turns to bones. The smell of your rotting flesh would be a lovely perfume as you lay in bed with me, sleeping beautifully in a trance nothing can break. When my prescription is refilled I'll take the whole bottle too... I'll die cuddling your bones then rot away with the warmth of love in my arms on our semen-stained mattress. No one will find us once the sun sets, and the world joins us in our numb darkness that is a dreamless sleep in each other's arms.