A sip of death
A sip of something strong,
Another and so forth,
Slowly I felt the long awaited pleasure,
A sip of something stronger to give the feeling momentum,
Slurring my conversation to those around,
Yet another sip to be one of the crowd,
Nature calls and I wearily stand,
I tried to walk but could only do nothing more than stumble,
I cannot feel myself drawing any breath,
I feel like I am choking on my saliva,
I stumble more until my legs can no longer hold me,
Crashing to the floor I loose all consciousness.
An ambulance was called by my peers in panic,
Would they make it in time?
My mother had been summoned from our home,
Rushed she did, she was weeping at my side.
I awoke disorientated thinking at first that I was dead,
A few moments passed,
I saw the wires covering my body,
What had I done?
Hearing strange beeps I noticed I had been attached to a heart monitor,
My arms where wrapped in bandages and a mask giving me oxygen was over my face,
Pain staking needles had been stabbed into my arms reaching for my veins,
I looked up in agony to see my disheartened and tearful mother standing over me,
I looked away in shame of what I had done,
My dignity had been taken away when I was in darkness,
A hideous tube had been put down my throat,
Not being able to go to the toilet as I had been placed with a catheter,
The burning was to much for me to bare,
In my frustration I tore away the wires from my chest,
Closing my eyes I ripped the needles from my arms,
Within moments I was surrounded by medical staff trying to calm me down.
Within moments of these events I was told how lucky I had been,
I had been told that during the night my lungs gave in and my heart had stopped,
I was told that without the revival from the staff I would have been dead,
Four minuets and thirty seconds it had taken them to revive me,
After five minuets I would have been classed as clinically dead.
That saturday night I had been so fortunate,
My mother had been by my side every step of the way,
Proud of myself I am not and by monday I was back in work.
I have asked myself was the trying for pleasure worth loosing everything for?
Was drinking to drown my sorrows all I could have done?
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