Click on the numbers...
Those seven digits...
Click. Click. Click.
Take a breath.
Click. Click. Click.
Just one more thought.
Click.
Dialed.
Call.
You hear the lazy voice,
The pounding in the background,
The girls' voice asking who it was.
"Come get me." I say easily,
knowing what I meant I could literally see him,
standing to get to his keys and run to his car.
Oh, he knew what I meant.
He knew I was taking up on the offer, finally.
After all this time of telling me it's okay to do it.
That it feels great, addicting, magnificent.
Finally, my brother was coming to pick me up.
Finally, I can taste it.
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...
