For Every HighA Poem by Death's Poet
Waking up in the same clothes as before
She needed her fix, nothing less nothing more She pulled her tangled curls up in a bow Washed off her shadowy face that had once held a glow Once she was respected, now her reputation a joke Her wallet as empty as the heart he broke Strewn on the table, were cards and white dust Herself and her high the only thing she would trust Her wallet and stash lay empty there on the floor So she picked up a knife and headed for the door She needed that money! She needed that high! So what if an innocent person might die? If they gave her the money it all would be fine She needed relief, she needed a line The girl everyone thought had it all together Couldn't hold up through the weather So she drank until the liquor no longer gave aid She couldn't find solace at the edge of a blade One dose quickly multiplied into two She learned quickly what self medicating can do Only in a daze could she force up a smile But the thing about high's is they only last for a while So quickly you're hooked, and you're high in a flash But for every high, is an even worse crash
© 2015 Death's PoetAuthor's Note
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4 Reviews Added on March 25, 2015 Last Updated on March 25, 2015 AuthorDeath's PoetThe Asylum I call my MindAboutWelcome to my poetic diary. I use this website to pour out my emotions and as a creative outlet. I started writing when I was very young and have been in love with it since. I struggle with a lot of d.. more..Writing
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