I used to think about the prescriptions that would make me better. Small bottle of fix it alls hidden away. A key could put it into my hands. That key being the sly signature of some fucked up doctor, too caught up in money to give a shit. 300 dollars under the table and I got me a free ride, baby. 300 dollars and I got me an unlimited supply of cure all. Pure sex was what it was when I slipped it on my tongue. All my fears and anxieties melting away like ice cream left outside on a 100 degree day. "Tastes like honey," always seemed to escape my lips right before my mind went black and two more brain cells perished like ants under my feet. My body goes numb and jolts of euphoria make my heart skip a beat as it travels up my legs and turns me on so bad I could cum right then. And just like that, just the moment before I close my eyes and let out that desperate sigh, it all wears off and I snap back to reality. Back to pain and grief and piss soaked pants, drool running onto my shirt and tears screaming down my face. I say, "Fuck." Short and sweet. Damn you, sexy pill. It's time to take another.
Note: This is just some of my writing. I figure I want to be able to share it. Because that's why I write. So no, you don't have to worry about me. I am not on drugs. This is just a little something I wrote for a friend.
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