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I had been in withdrawal
For days lying on that couch
Sweating and shaking and he
Had locked me in and taken
The whiskey into the bathroom
And shouted in there and
Crashed into the door only
Coming out to go and buy
Cigarettes. I had not eaten
And the night my tremors
Reached the worst he was so
Gone he just screamed himself
Hoarse in there, his girlish
Voice contorting and it was
As if he was speaking to
Someone. He crashed in at
One point, fell down barking
Out some German folk song.
That night at around four a.m.
My fever broke and the white
Pain in my muscles and my
Gut began to subside and I
Drank some milk I had found
Beside me on the floor. He had
Written on the side of the
Carton in blood the word LUNG