Make me suffer,
Take it for yourself,
Space it down,
You bring me down,
I lost my life to this,
Now it can only stay with me to keep me in this sanity...
Ronnie brought back coffee for everyone left at the house,
And boy did I suck that shit back quick.
The throbbing in my head made me want to die.
Worst. Hangover. Ever.
Someone else made egg sandwiches in between the mess from the night before.
Eat.
Eat.
Eat.
The greasiness helped with the ache, somewhat.
The need for the monster right now was small,
probably because of the hurt I was putting up with throughout my entire body.
Ronnie and I went back to his car, after saying goodbye to everyone.
Sit.
Lean Back.
Closing my eyes to release myself.
"I know what you need."
Open eyes. Turn to face the voice,
"Oh?"
"Bed." He turns the key in the ingition to fire up the engine.
"I'll take you home."
Turning back, I had to smile; Home.
I almost laugh out loud.
Home.
Something that I don't consider a safe house.
Home.
Not where I need to be. Not where I want to be.
Home.
Which I haven't considered a real home for a very long time...
YOU ARE READING
My Monster
PoetryHer name was Skylar. And she was addicted. Her substance: Meth/Crank/Glass... whatever you call it, it still screws you up in more ways than one. But after seventeen years of trying to be Ms.Perfect in an unstable family, is this really what she wan...
