Kickstart My Heart

I tightened the strap around my arm, adding more pressure making my veins pop. I could see the blood pumping through those small bluish seams. I wanted so badly to have that vile of liquid in my body, I couldn't seem to get in in fast enough. It felt like the whole world had gone silent when the tip of the needle pierced through my skin. It was as if I could hear it pass through that small amount of flesh protecting those delicate vessels that held my blood. As soon as I felt the needle hit my vein I pressed in the end and allowed that fine chemical to make it's way through my body, when the vile was empty I pulled the syringe out of my arm and threw it to the floor. I then sat there, in the corner of my closet, hidden amongst various items, until I was ready to come down.

I don't exactly remember how long I was in my closet before I started hearing noises . I lived on my own , so hearing noises in my house was a bad thing. It either meant that someone was coming to kill me, or someone was trying to kill me. There were no other options as to what they would be doing in my house. I stretched my other arm out, the one that I had not injected into, and searched for my shot gun. I held it close to me as I stumbled towards the door. It was pitch black when I entered my bedroom, I slowly walked around the room until I made it to the hall. The voices seemed to be getting louder and I still wasn't sure where they were coming from. I decided to stick with my gun and go back to my closet.

It was a couple of hours, before I decided to venture out of my room again. I had no idea what the time was, and personally I didn't give a shit. I just wanted to drink. I made my way over to the kitchen, and searched through my cupboards until I discovered a bottle of my favorite liquid. I consumed about half of that bottle of Jack Daniel's in what I would call a matter of seconds. I loved the feeling of it trickling down my throat and burning it at the same time, it was such a balance. I trudged my way over to the couch that was in my music room. I dropped into its comforting embrace and stared at my guitar. For some reason I always came up with the best songs when I'm either high, or coming down from a high and wasted on JD.