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Overdose

An Excerpt From Something I May One Day Write

By Kameron BoultonPublished 6 years ago 1 min read
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The tile floor is cold. I can feel the blood oozing out of my nose and the vomit drying on my lips.

I’m sweating.

A lot.

My vision is fading and my heart is racing. My arm burns like hell where I put the needle. Jesus fuck. It’s still there.

The shower is still on.

I can hear the artificial rain from the shower head meeting the tub with small metallic "tink" sounds.

To my left I see the light from the TV dancing through the crack under the door. Constantly changing color and form.

My fingers have gone numb. My breathing is getting shallow.

This is it.

Overdose.

The ultimate high before the ultimate crash. I guess the only question I have to ask myself before I die in this hotel room is,

Was it all worth it?

sad poetry
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