Plant Feelings

chair-sitting-electrode applied-crackling noises-
electricity applied-electricity flying out in waves-
eyes melt-hollowed out-circuits fried-overloaded-
broken-and then i remember...

I said to him, "I was just a plant. A carnivorous plant
stuck and potted in the carpet. It was like I had
wavy hands, they unfurled themselves from budding
leaf stalks and learned quickly based on instinct.
They knew where to reach. I spent whole days
without seeing, I possessed vision but the field was
blank, my mind was a blank canvas, my eyes saw
only a staticy field. My horrific lithe fingers and hands
crawled out and deftly retrieved foil, lighter, straw, black,
spread tar on tin, lit and let the dope roll down, guiding
the paralyzing smoke right into my mouth and down the
throat, inhaled in lungs, throughout the body, packing me
ever deeper into the carpet, tentacles, tendrils, roots spreading
out in all directions, anchoring me into that solitary room, all
alone, cutting me off, losing my humanity with every hit. An island,
surrounded by the movement of humanity, people to suck and feed
from, people to supply my insatiable need in whatever capacity
they could provide for me at that moment. Staring out at the
blank field swaying gently from the A.C. in perfect vegetable
stasis, monotonous happiness, an endless line, the vanishing point,
never changed or interested, canceled, origastic feelings of gone-ness,
as long as the plant is tended as needed. As long as the plant is fed.
"Gee whiz," he said. "I'm drifting."
"Yep, I know that feelin...," I heard her whisper in her dead junkie voice.
"Felt like I was in the rotten room 5,6,7 years," I told them. "By the time
they pried me out the roots were thick trunks under the carpet, the walls
covered in vines and tendrils, a veritable jungle..."
I paused.
"Awful thing to become."
I exhaled the smoke and looked down at my fingers. Already they had
a sickening greenish tint.