“I heard that he’s on the run in Connecticut good riddance scum and crackheads like him are a waste of space here, the last thing Vermont needs is another addict.”
“You know I heard that the kid on the news, you know the one, his picture was up on Facebook the other day? I heard when they found him he had a needle in between his toes and all the veins in his arm were collapsed. I'm not gonna be surprised when he ODs behind Walmart someday.”
“his parents should be ashamed, I went to high school with that kid and he used to just drink right in front of them. They didn’t mind at all we used to go over to do shit all the time. Its real fucked up that they didn’t do anything to stop him.”
“ I heard”
“ I heard”
“My buddy told me that he’s gonna rat on us all that fucker better not take me down with him I’ve got a family.”
“shit now where am I gonna get my fix buddy do you got a hook up?”
“Good fucking riddance am I right, he’ll probably be out in no time, its people like him that make this town look bad.”
“He used to be so nice”
“Where did we go wrong”
Sharks ripping through his flesh
Slow down, down, to zero
A vial filled with the water of the womb
To escape the broken back he slip at work and cracked
Cracked the bone he couldn’t afford the payments
So the doctors, like the guardians at the gates of salvation
Refused admission to those without the golden ticket.
He couldn’t afford the treatment
But he could afford the pills
Until he couldn’t anymore
Then the black smoke devil in his long grey trench coat
Offered an appointment with the needle
In the middle of the planet fitness parking lot
25 feet from the free adjustment included with the black card
He’s shooting black tar
He’s a dying black star
Fuck it take another life in your hands
And throw it in the biohazard bucket
Your hypocritic oath
Has a real truth to it now.
This was his suicide note left behind with the insurance card that expired the day he turned 18
It’s plain to see.
Just be thankful its not you or me
what people don’t understand when they come to places like ours. Once a year, they see us at our best, eager to serve and hoping the dollar will finally trickle down. What tourists don’t understand is that we’re still here after they leave. When it gets cold. When the weather forces the leaves from the trees. We’re still here, freezing, hoping that once it all thaws out the pain will stop. My father was hit with a car on his way home from work. He drinks to numb the pain. My buddy got let go from the factory job he was working, he sells dime bags on his back deck. While I’m at work the homeless people like to pick out the ash trays for some semblance of a cigarette. People are angry, angry that the world and the government seems to have forgotten about them. Ghost people in a ghost state. I'm ANGRY
that along the way I gave up on it as well. We all gave up.
What happened man?
Where did everyone go?
We’re just ghosts now, the rest of the world’s once a year haunted house.