Gris-Gris, an online journal of literature, culture & the arts


by Ana Silva

My Dad is an alcoholic
And I’m a drug addict
We’re both addicted to something
And don’t care about nothing
When we started losing hope
He started abusing
And I started using
So much that I OD-ed
He thought it was from weed
He didn’t know I was heavy
With all these drugs I carry
He saw me crying
When he heard them announce me
Like I was dying
He keeps on trying
To get me off the high
Like I was flying
Two weeks later
He found me in my funeral bed
He didn’t care
He kept drinking instead


Aan Silva