One More...
Nooralain, Age 13, London, England

One more, just one more.
Oh pill, why do you like me so much?
You’re so succulent, such a sweet touch.
You’re melting slowly in my mouth,
The thousands of chemicals polluting me.
My head gradually paces into a sinister place of insanity.
I swore to them I’d stop,
But you’re staring at me in the corner,
Begging me to have one more.
What is the use of this?
What is it for?
It’s for my empty, neglected mind and soul no one seems to care for.
She has such a great life,
The friends, money, tender family,
Why couldn’t she be me?
Oh tablet, oh pill, oh powder,
You’re the only friend I have today,
You take me to so many places, some where far, far away.
Okay, last one, I swear, I will stop after this one.
I feel it dissolving,
The bitter taste flowing through my lungs,
Wait, what’s happening?
The room is growing smaller and smaller,
My mind grows blank and my eyes start to sink,
I’m going now….
Somewhere far, far away.

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