Decadence.
Every morning before my eyes are even open, curses pour from my mouth into the air filling it with a stench of a ruined and forgotten life. By the time I am able to erect myself, in more ways then one, I fill my body with the toxins of impotence and desperation. And when I finally reach to the point of being upright on my feet, I realize that I am still alive.
My feet worn to the bone stumble across the floor of discarded vices and lead me to my telephone. There is only one number that I remember in my mind and my fingers dial without hesitation. The phone rings. “Hello,” he answers.
“I need another,” I say to him knowing that he knew who I was before even answering.
“I’m already on my way,” I hung up before he even finished. A single tear rolled over the bags under my eyes and made its way down into my lips. I sucked my lips in and tasted the salty tear. When regret should have been hesitation or to even surcease what should you do?
The phone rang again. I hung up before it could ring again. There was a knock that sent chills up my spine and made my legs tremble. I opened the door and there he was with that side ways grin menacing my life. I watched as a pool bubbled into a dirty brown. Watched as it mixed with my blood and entered my vein along with everything wrong with the world. And what true regret that holds to this moment is that last night I should have slept with my head in the oven.
During this realization I watched that devil man walk out my door with my life held tightly between his fingers as blood washed down his hands.