Screwdriver

I had a dream. I had heroin and I wanted to use it. This kid was shoting it so I had to ask him for a clean needle, in his pile of needles. He searched through them and picked me out one. When I took a look at it, its point was think and shaped exactly like a screwdriver. I had to shoot it though so I made the kid dig into my vein with the screwdriver to get the dope into my body so I could feel, nothing.
I didn't care, anything to get my lovely poison into my bloodstream. My best friend I came to love and do anything for. The only thing I think about during my waking hours. The only reason to get out of bed. My love affair with the dope man. The only one who never fails me when I need him. My obsession. When I pull back the needle and see my blood rush in, I'm already high. I empty the contents into my arm and I am overcome with a warm rush. I can relax. I feel on top of the world. Nothing is wrong. Life is beautiful.
Then it fades away. He has left me again. But I know where to find you and i will do ANYTHING for you.

And the visious cycle begins. . .