- The chill of an evening, the beautiful sight of the sunset, as the clouds around you darken with every passing second and it becomes night. Then comes darkness, where you feel the most emotion, where you feel all the abandonment, loneliness, and loss. As you sit, head bowed, fighting your inner demons, you argue the decision to quit or fight for one more hit, quit or beg for one more dollar, quit or strive for one more needle. Knowing your fight is pointless; your body makes the decision for you, with your treasure at hand, you use. You feel no glory, no triumphant roar, nothing but a feeling of guilt and shame. You think back to what you’ve done to get this rock, which only to you, looks like gold. You think back to what you’ve stolen, the families you’ve hurt, you look at yourself; your skin broken as your spirit, there is no sense of beauty, no life in your eyes. You remember all the disappointed faces from everyone you care for, all the locked doors, the police calls from loved ones you would never expect it from. Having such low self-esteem, you cannot imagine a world with any hope or even happiness. Suicide being literally the only thing left to live for. These are the thoughts and feelings of the hundreds of drug addicts in my city alone.
- by blacklather |
- Non Fiction
- | Submitted on 07/15/2016 |
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- Title: The Other Side Of The Needle
- Artist: blacklather
- Description:
- Date: 07/15/2016
- Tags: other side needle
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