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Aug 2018
Weighed down by the heavy cloak of depression
And his tormented brain
He searched for the answers in a bottle
He reached the bottom and sank even deeper into the pit

Senses intoxicated
Clearly not on his right mind
He fumbled around in the medicine cabinet
Seeking the ultimate way out

The pills were calling out to him
“We can free you”
So he swallowed the lot, washed down with yet more liquor

The chemicals began to dance through his veins
Releasing their deadly poison
He was overcome
Unconsciousness set in
Contorted and convulsing he buckled and slumped to the floor

She found him this time
Like the time before
Out cold, black mucus running out of his mouth
His ‘guardian angel’
She dialled 999

20 years later
And history repeats itself
This time he phones her to confess
The cycle resumes
Frantic calls to the authorities
Interminable waiting
Can he be brought back from the brink?

Yet again he is saved
But not cured
A ticking bomb free to wreak havoc
Upon his blood ties
Unharnessed rage and anger
Eluding the ‘system’ once more

A life saved
But a life sentence imposed on his ‘loved’ ones
When will it ever end?!
The Poisonous Pixie
Written by
The Poisonous Pixie  43/F/London
(43/F/London)   
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