09 June 2009

Sam. 2009-06-09

I'm slipping.
I know the symps.
Done this before.
Sweating getting intense now.
Eyes are like losing some focus.
I can see the people in the club, kinda blurry, some are looking at me.
Slumping.
A bouncer comes over, shakes me, like hard.
'you out, now' he hollers.
No drugs, not here, kid'.
'Get ya shit and go'.
I look up him, from under ma fringe.
LOL stupid fuck.
This ain't no drugs OD.
It's the opposite ya dumb fuck.
I'm slipping into the comfort zone now.
Like under water.
Two hands, lifting me.
Ma feet are dragging the stairs.
The hands are hurting my shoulders and pits.
Grips too tight.
Air, cold, sharpe, it hits me.
They sit me on the floor.
I'm still slipping.
Fucking hurry up and go under, is all I can think.
Get me into that diabetic coma.
I wanna get there, so bad.
I wanna experience my own death.

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