I'm relaxing in my moral filth. Letting my mind soften as I put the small glass of pleasurable poison between my lips.this pale perplexion I carry will stay forever. For as long as the sweet, sweet rum can flow through my poisoned nervous system. I glance down at my rough, abused skin with a freakish grin. The marks from the desperate injections gives me pleasure. Simple pleasure. Deadly pleasure. Pleasure that only a select few can enjoy without guilt flooding their innocent mind. Only a select few can can smile when you look into the shattered mirror that you broke. Only a select few can love the bitter taste, or the dreaded afterglow. I'm one of the select few.
