Do I have enough to eat alright?

I think back to my last paycheck,

and how long it has been.

I know I can make rent,

student loans,

and still afford my dealer.

This much,

it will not kill me.

I think back to all the times

there was no pay out,

about how angry I get at myself

 just for leaving the lights on,

the air conditioning running,

or swiping credit.

But my fingers twitch,

bristling anticipation,

because they remember

the feeling.

My heart skips over the track,

lightning spiderwebs

through my brain,

I bask under the adrenaline.

Static stimulation

in the din.

There is no need

to know the stakes,

I put everything I have

on the table.

Gooseflesh travels up my arm,

tension tightens the neck.

The dim light of the room

glints around

the dull gunmetal.

I take a deep breath—

cigar smoke and sweat.

Pulse slamming and stares burning,

I curl a hand around the grip

and lift the weight with a light clatter;

my hands are shaking.

I clench my knuckles white,

spin the worn cylinder,

and thumb back the hammer.