Ronnie.
Ronnie.
Ronnie.
Each time I said it, it rolled off my tongue,
Each time I wanted it.
Ronnie.
Ronnie.
Ronnie.
The guy that was next to me now,
drinking some shit right out of the bottle,
something that he mized real good,
making your brain all fucked up,
where you can't walk on anymore.
Stare off into the sky,
think about your life,
have some meaning in these thoughts,
But I just can't find one.
Ronnie.
His voice is speaking to me now,
Ronnie.
Breathe in his scent of vodka and soap.
Vodka and soap.
Something I have smelled a lot these days,
especially at night,
when I crank out that monster.
Not giving a damn about some future,
the future I will never have,
Not giving two shits who watches,
I'll just ask them if they wanna join.
Close your eyes now.
Touch his kiss.
He's kissing you now,
now you just kiss back,
feel the dream,
but wake up and realize, that wasn't no dream.
Touch the taste of his breath right on my tongue, inhale it deep,
like you're losing the high,
quick, someone's takin' your dope.
Not gonna happen, not gonna happen.
'Cuz I'll inhale this shit like there's no reason to live.
And I'll say that I'm sorry to my momma,
even though she already knows the shit I must do,
that one night she still hasn't forgiven me,
well I haven't forgiven anything she's fucking done,
all the sorrys- she was just full of shit.
Now I'm living my life on the edge,
This edge of death is seeping in,
I feel it rise,
Touch the signal,
but back down right before it grabs you, sucks you in.
'Cuz you can make it, cheat on death.
And feel this kiss one more time, before it backs away,
but forget these thoughts for another day...
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...
