Still Breathing

She watched his chest rise and fall
His body quiver as he exhaled
He smelled like cigarette smoke
It had been his first bad habit
Something they’d shared so long ago

She eyed his lips, soft pink
Not blue
He twitched in his sleep
And rolled onto his side
Still breathing

The needle lay haphazardly on the floor
And when she bent to retrieve it
She could almost feel the familiar sting
The want
The need
The pull

But she tossed it into the garbage sack
Lazily picking up empty bottles of beer and Cuervo
She checked on her other friends
All sound asleep in their beds
Chests rising and falling
Still breathing

She returned to his room with a knit afghan in her hand
And she watched his chest rise and fall
His arms clutching the pillow beneath his head

Still breathing.