gone again

She came back clean- and for three days, I believed in miracles. I memorized her laugh again, traced her sober smile like it was gospel. But then she vanished. No goodbye. No excuse. Just silence. And when I found out she was back on the streets, back on the needle, back to being a ghost wearing my mother's face. I hated myself for hoping. For opening my ribs just to have her rip the light out again. People don't understand- it's not just losing her. It's losing her over and over, each time more painful than the last. I stopped asking why. I just stopped asking.