Night High 3 -

On night high 1 , I ran from the cops. Night high 2 , I kissed the barrel of a Glock. Now 3 — I just walk the fault line between the prayer of the neon and the piss of the fiend.

I look down. In my left hand: a key. In my right: a wedding ring. Neither one fits me.

"My name," I say.

Night high 3 doesn't end. It just… upgrades. Title: Night High 3

I'm standing in a 24-hour laundromat at 3 a.m., blood under my fingernails I don't remember earning. The fluorescent tubes buzz like trapped hornets. A woman in a pink bathrobe folds towels, humming a lullaby from my childhood. She looks up. night high 3

I'm night-high again, no pill, no leaf, just the hum of the overpass, the ghost of a thief who stole my last lighter, my last good reason. December in the marrow — it's treason season.

"You lost something," she says.

High on the asphalt, high on the ache High on the promise that I'll never break But I'm cracked, I'm leaking, I'm wide awake Night high 3 — for heaven's sake