The Spa – Celeste B

January 6, 2026

I spent 35 days in the spa.
That’s what I called rehab.

I blacked out on October 31st.
Xanax took my memory
and I let it.

I came to in a locked bathroom,
pants down for a piss test.

The spa nurse handed me a cup.
I pissed into plastic,
staring at the blue bottle cap on the sink.

I’d done OxyContin the night before—
watched my reflection bend in the glass,
blue lines in my nose.

The cup filled.
I spilled a little on my hand
and didn’t wash it.

I handed it to the nurse.
She dropped a stick into the yellow-brown.
She sat me in the most uncomfortable chair
in the next room.

“Oh,” she said. “Fentanyl.
Not OxyContin.”

Fuck.
Yay.
Thirty-five days in white rooms with no shoelaces.

And you know what?

Nevermind.