The Book


You get up from the bed in your ripped pants and old shirt.
Felling the cold morning air getting under them.
Another night you were awake.
Another night that you left your eyes open.
And another morning you feel like you are the worst trash on earth.
Just another number in the book.

Yes that is what you are.
Just another junkie.
Another young girl that got hooked on it.
You just wanted to try it.
You just wanted to see what is so good in it.
You just wanted to see what is so fun in it.
And now you hide your hands so nobody can see the scars.
Scars that will make from you another number in the book.

You walk through the hallway.
Going toward the kitchen.
And you hear them, you hear them all the way there.
And no it is not the voices in your head.
And that is only moment you wish they are.
But that is their voices arguing and yeling again.
As you realise they are also a number in the book.

You hear a crash.
Maybe they are fighting again.
You know it is about you and your grades.
You just sit there on the floor in the hallway.
You just sit there on the ground and put your face on your hands and cry.
You feel like worst junkie on the earth.
Like the worst Junkie in the book.

You go into the bathroom.
And you dont dare to look into the mirror.
You take the spoon and zippo.
And you take the shirt off.
You feel so cold as you feel needle going into you.
And suddenly all you see is darkness.
As you keep your eyes closed.

As you open them you see some half naked girl sitting on the toilet.
Police all around her.
As they put a sheet over her.
And you see a fat cop talking to them.
Pretending like he cares.
While another cop is writing some numbers in the book.



by Mad Zec