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3:49am
The needle absorbs the liquid from the spoon
In a second it'll poke a hole in the skin
It's contents mixing thoroughly with her blood
And she'll feel the warmth of the womb
He takes the needle and loads it
Ah the sweet sting
He feels as it goes in
He waits for the feeling anxiously as he sits
Lovers they are
Lovers till the end
Neither knowing each other
But still lovers they are
The junk carried so fast in the blood
The feeling overcomes them
And away they go
To their special place as their heads turn to mud
She fingers herself but can't get off
He sits watching
But doesn't know what
She tries to orgasm but all she can do is cough
The high lasts for hours it seems
Then the needle they'll take to again
Injecting themselves with their drug
Missing out on lost dreams
Hers was a simple dream
A mother, wife, lover was she
His was a harsh one
Where no one heard his scream
So there they are knowing how they fell
From great heights and prestige
To loneliness
And Hell
3:52AM
Next up: 12 hours
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I just love people who use the excuse "I use/do this because I LOVE the feeling/joy/happiness it brings me" and expect you to be ok with that as you watch them destroy their life blindly following. My response is, "I like to put forks in an eletrical socket, just LOVE that feeling, can't ever get enough of it, so will you let me put this copper fork in that electric socket?"
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