#alcohol #drunk #addictions #pain #lifestruggles #depression #hurt #abuse #selfharm #coping

PART 2 . PEARL

                                       PEARL

 

 

 

 

   _”What a pretty girl” whisper the wind as I walk the church alleyway, to seal my love for eternity! Sugar coated love story…

 

Hysterical introduction so close from those crazy nights if you ask me, macabre if you request so! The clients is king, actually, the readers is queen…

As I have been deceased since nineteen eighty nine, at the tender age of my sweet sixteen’s!

 

Who can blame such innocence for asking a round of applauses but instead my wedding veils encrusted by billions tears, recollecting me yet?

Not even close, too bad!

 

If it had not been for Margot, I, probably today would be a dusty pile of files, one of several, rotting away in some police station, far away…

Case close doesn’t fills the wooden coffin!  

Classified is not classy. Ladies and gentleman’s let me introduce myself:

 

Sweet daddy ‘girl by day, mother little whore by night!

 

Mystical creature falling faster than shooting stars, too bad and if beauty was my curse!

What make you so different than the others than?

Did I mentions, there was others? Anyway…

 

The answer is: Nothing!

Long legs, blond peroxide hair, the cuties voice chirping away lies so to please!

(Angel face, cum on, you use to loved it, there is no spelling mistake here!)

Still, even such depravities could not have made me so exceptional but even more hollow!

 

Step back and rewind the tape.

it was never about me but you, yes you, holding the pen, sorry,  my mistake the deadly metal weapon that night, iron bars laying on the ground, where did you find it?

Not that it truly matter. The weapon was never the motive of the crime but just the tool used to crash my skull!

 

The first blow felt like a kiss, open mouth, silence.

Pretty doll laying on the wooden floor, I starred at you, how many of you were there?

Preliminary, do you follow me?

Actually, you all did, as I strolled through the wood, it was never about me, if you asks me!

That was pretty means, selfish, narcissistic if I may say so!

No hard feelings as mention before, without you, I still be nothings, an empty shell, bury in some imaginary land, long forgotten…

 

Remember the second blow, my body felt to the ground, and as you stared at me, there was no reflection, was I gone? Letting a screams to remind me, I may be wrong!

 

-“Forgive me” was the last words, I heard.

The blood felt warms on my lips, filling my mouth, gasping for air, one last time!

 

 

My name is Pearl, naked body found wrap in a plastic bag along an empty road…

 

 

                                 @2019.H.NAUDET.DIT.MARGOT

  

Waste of space drunk

Waste of space drunk

By JFarrell

 

Waste of space drunk,

Good for nothing,

Yep,

That’s me.

 

Or was.

14 days sober,

Ready to explode.

Is this what sober is suppose to be?

 

Can’t work out which I regret most;

Giving up the drink,

Or starting the drink,

In the first place.

 

The latter is probably the better answer;

Though, not necessarily the truth.

For sure,

I don’t want to go through this again.

 

My fault, my choice,

At least I am taking full responsibility;

This is me, burning it all,

Staring in awe at all the pretty flames.

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

please drink in moderation, dont become a dunk :)

The Poison Game

Folder: 
The Darkness

She froze me with her poison,

A needle to my brain

She spoke the words that stopped my heart

She played her toxic game

 

The wretched water that she drinks

Depletes her decent mind

Wrapped up in her own misery

A reality fostered by lies

 

Be not weak, for when she comes,

Her venom will consume

Your spirit 'til you have not much

You'll wallow in her doom

Golden Mirror Armani

Dropping cocktail names because they sound so sweet

Auntie's house last night too easy, score some at the meet

Wide-eyed and bright-eyed, the Heathers hands together like a prayer

Too bad for God, they have something else in mind

With Colgate smiles, down-low whispers, "You did?"

 

Moschino cherries, I never liked them

Poke them with your tongue, spill out red like blood

But tonight they looking pink, now white when I'm with the creme de la creme

We laughing, they bring new bottles of black

And down it goes, fire burning my tongue

Watch their smiles, mood fly up the track

 

Next day, the black come back with heaves too familiar

Toss that Voss down the sink

Look down, my Armani cracked like a glass now pink

And tonight now the white wash up on me again

With the Heathers who stay together and say,

"''cord this fucker, he about to ride on high that see the low

and now he smile, them Colgate teeth sinking deep"

Snow rush, cover my eyes, now it's cold

Colgate smile for me, they're sold

 

Foggy sight of my momma, she lookin' down with disbelief

She said, "Colgate teeth keep you happy, you got what you wanted

So lie there naked as you are and watch the golden wreath"

Watch that cracked mirror from above now stare back down

It rusts, turned that muddy metal that disgust me

Armani won, he took the squad car and left me 'neath his marquee

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The Ocean

Flask in hand, eyes glassy.

The floor beneath me feels like the ocean, and I have yet to earn my sailors feet.

As it churns, so does my stomach

 

belly full of alcohol, eating away my pain,

burning through my inhibitions like a debauched flame.

The stool hits a particularly large wave and I'm suddenly staring face to face with a canvas of scarred wood, mottled with old gum, peanut shells and

spots of red

 

My nose aches

 

I must be in a sea,

There's liquid on my face, copper in my mouth

 

Am I swimming?

Or falling?

 

And if I'm swimming, let me sink to the bottom of the abyss, weightless

 

Life has abandoned me like an infant bird,

corrupted by the touch of another

its mother no longer recognizes it as her own

 

Head is pounding, needles tap dance behind my eyelids

 

 

Somewhere, far away, I hear a garbled laugh

(It sounds familiar)

 

These people look at me, eyes swirling in their sockets, like tipsy olives on a stick in my glass

 

I bet they want me, the lot of them

Oh, but those people with their silly hands and ugly, twisted faces, faces that jeer- they will never get me.

 

Not now

 

Not ever again.

 

I'll drink to that.

 

          Bartender, pour me another!

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