UFF the duff (10 things I hate about you)

Iron railing on a hospital bed, one day Patrick's gonna wake up dead

Started in a shit state. Getting whacked off my head all day. Going to school stoned. Not going to school at all. I lived in a crack den, set my body alight for fun and got surprised when I burnt myself. And then I'd fucking laugh because it's less fucking terrifying than admitting that you've fucked up your life and that you'll always be some lame crackhead that eventually overdoses and ends up cold, alone and dead somewhere by the side of the road before he even reaches legal drinking age.

But then I got something good. I was an idiot to ever think I could hold on to her.

Of course she left me. How could she not? Jackson's a good guy. He flirts with old ladies and always forgets to wear his retainer and has awful taste in shoes but he's a fucking nice guy. He's one of the good ones and I'm one of the bad ones.

I saw them together. Her scrunched up against the wall with her legs open wide and him grinning like the fucking cat that's got the fucking cream. Or should I say the fucking cream that's got the fucking kat? It was disgusting and eerily silent besides from jackson letting out the odd grunts and snorts.

I don't know why I stayed and watched. Should've bought myself some popcorn to enjoy the cunt of the year extravaganza. S h i t. This is sick, this is really fucking sick. You know I got a boner? I got a boner from watching my bass guitarist fuck my girlfriend. She's my girlfriend. S h i t.

So I lost it. She started crying afterwards and he tried to comfort her. They're both such fucking good people. But I'm not so I ran. I ran with my feet and I ran with my heart. One foot in front of the other. Everything blurred into a streaky pool of red, I couldn't see anymore and I knew where I was headed.

I was headed to the park where I used to go. I hoped He was still there. I wish that he wasn't, maybe I'd have just gone back home into the arms of the girl that I love. But of course Reggie was there and he refused to hand me his dope so I punched him until my fist bled and red poured down his cheeks. Out of his mouth where my fist met his jaw, a yellow tooth fell from his gums grip. It was already loose. This wasn't the first time he'd been swung at.

But as I punched him Reggie cackled, said "You fucking bastard, mate you came back." And I smiled back at him. A demon possessed me and spoke with my vocal chords so words rolled off of my tongue. "I never left." I did. I left. I thought I'd left for good.

For good. She was good. What we had was so fucking good. So why did she have to cheat on me? and why did I respond violently? and why didn't the drugs work? and why did I decide to take more? and why do I need a fucking machine to help me breathe?

My lungs are pumped open and close by a tube I'm hooked up to through my nose. My body doesn't want to breathe anymore but the doctors won't let me go. My eyes are wide shut in this hospital bed, my brain feels dead but my heart decides to beat. It beats but I can't feel so perhaps that's another machine as well. What if I'm a machine that's doomed to fuck up? I lost my virginity before I was born, I'm in a constant state of "fucked over by life".

An: im asleep and grammar is crap everything is crap this is crap but can I be bothered? nO! AMY YOU LUCKY BASTARD