Sin City has the perfect name for itself,
and I never really believed that until I got onto the streets the second week I was there...
Bitterly silent for a city that was so full of life,
that's what my thoughts were for my walk home through the ally ways,
as I walked "home," also known as Travis's crib one night.
Actually, I didn't know if it was night or early morning.
Either way, it was dark. And quiet. Too quiet for here.
I was on my way home from work.
Yeah, I know; I got a job here in Vegas.
Why? Because Ronnie gave me a choice:
You either start buying all the drugs or you leave.
Now, I had no money to leave Sin City. And he certainly wasn't gonna give me anymore.
And when I say all of the drugs,
I mean my heroin, meth, and pills.
And I mean Ronnie's meth, heroin, and cocaine.
So what other job was I going to get at Las Vegas?
Well I certainly wasn't going to work at subway
or some coffee shop.
No thank you. Too little money, dealing with boring people.
Off to dancing around a fucking pole,
with disgusting men drooling over me as they throw money for tips.
Yeah, I guess I've dropped my standards a bit;
But the money was great, the job was easy, and Ronnie and I were happy.
Life was... okay.
YOU ARE READING
My Monster
PoetryHer name was Skylar. And she was addicted. Her substance: Meth/Crank/Glass... whatever you call it, it still screws you up in more ways than one. But after seventeen years of trying to be Ms.Perfect in an unstable family, is this really what she wan...
