- Joined
- May 27, 2020
- Messages
- 32,106
My friend used to shoot up in the neck,
he told me.
I told him I'd rather snort the brown sour liquid.
He spilled the spoon and it fell into a pile of meth on the floor
"Oh shit!" he yelped
"What? What happened?" I said with concern
"It fell into the meth. Now it's a speedball...
Whatever, man, this is better anyways. This is Arizona style."
I scooped up a mix of hard drugs from the carpet,
I recovered most of it,
then used a slingshot to get it up into my nose.
There was a violent reaction and my face exploded.
I don't know why I ever fucked with that stuff,
there's not that much to it.
I think I'm a loser, and trust me,
I want to lose really fucking bad, yet,
there's no other way to quiet my mind,
I can't get to where I'm going or want to go and
there is no other way.
This shit has got to be it.
Maybe I should try to shoot up in the neck.
"Damn bro this shit is fire" I said,
I could hardly talk, my voice like a whisper,
"Have some of my beer".
It was cheap beer and it was 3:45pm on a dull Wednesday,
and there was no friend or any drugs on the floor or in my nose,
simply another sad delusional daydream,
but there was a regrettably bad movie on the TV,
and I was sitting alone, desperate,
writing in my journal.
I'm kinda hungry, lets go check the fridge.
he told me.
I told him I'd rather snort the brown sour liquid.
He spilled the spoon and it fell into a pile of meth on the floor
"Oh shit!" he yelped
"What? What happened?" I said with concern
"It fell into the meth. Now it's a speedball...
Whatever, man, this is better anyways. This is Arizona style."
I scooped up a mix of hard drugs from the carpet,
I recovered most of it,
then used a slingshot to get it up into my nose.
There was a violent reaction and my face exploded.
I don't know why I ever fucked with that stuff,
there's not that much to it.
I think I'm a loser, and trust me,
I want to lose really fucking bad, yet,
there's no other way to quiet my mind,
I can't get to where I'm going or want to go and
there is no other way.
This shit has got to be it.
Maybe I should try to shoot up in the neck.
"Damn bro this shit is fire" I said,
I could hardly talk, my voice like a whisper,
"Have some of my beer".
It was cheap beer and it was 3:45pm on a dull Wednesday,
and there was no friend or any drugs on the floor or in my nose,
simply another sad delusional daydream,
but there was a regrettably bad movie on the TV,
and I was sitting alone, desperate,
writing in my journal.
I'm kinda hungry, lets go check the fridge.