#onespeedballovertheline

[maxmundan]

"It's been twelve minutes since my last shot," I say out loud, to no one in particular. I mean my last shot of heroin and cocaine, of course, not the last shot from the .45 in my hand. That last shot was three minutes ago, at that huge fucking rat down in the alley below. I'll shoot at it again, too, the next time it shows it's ugly mug. I'm gonna kill that stinkin' rat And there's nothin' you can do to stop me but that fact that it's been twelve minutes since my last shot of heroin and cocaine means that I don't have a lot of time to get ready for the next one. I've got to shoot up every fifteen minutes now or I'll start to come down And if I start to come down then I will have to begin taking a very serious look at what I'm doing with my life And sweet, suffering Jesus knows that I sure as hell don't want to do that. So it's time to measure the dose and I've got to do this carefully because I'm really fucked up and it would be so easy to make a mistake and my heart already feels like it's going to explode from my chest. So all it would take is just a little too much coke in the mix to pull the plug on my poor, overworked heart and I'd be lying dead on the roof of this building, Where nobody would find me for, at least, a couple of weeks and by then I'd be a stinking, rotting corpse that no one would be able to look at and That fucking rat would be fat and happy and if there is one thing on this earth that I am not going to allow to happen, it's to let that  fat, goddamn rat win.

Max Mundan, One Speedball Over the Line, Sweet Jesus

From my book Junkies Die Alone (Thought Catalog Books, 2014). Get your copy at Amazon by clicking HERE!

[maxmundan]

One Speedball Over the Line, Sweet Jesus

“It’s been twelve minutes

since my last shot,”

I say out loud, to no one in particular.

I mean my last shot

of heroin and cocaine, of course,

not the last shot

from the .45 in my hand.

That last shot was three minutes ago,

at that huge fucking rat

down in the alley below.

I’ll shoot at it again, too, 

the next time it shows its ugly mug.

I’m gonna kill that stinking rat.

And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.

The fact that it’s been twelve minutes

since my last shot of heroin and cocaine

means that I don’t have a lot of time

to get ready for the next one.

I’ve got to shoot up

every fifteen minutes now

or I’ll start to come down.

And if I start to come down

then I will have to begin taking 

a very serious look

at what I’m doing with my life

and sweet, suffering Jesus knows

that I sure as hell

don’t want to do that.

So it’s time to measure the dose and

I’ve got to do this carefully

because I’m really fucked up and

it would be so easy to make a mistake and

my heart already feels

like it’s going to explode in my chest.

So all it would take

is just a little too much coke in the mix

to pull the plug

on my poor, overworked heart and

I’d be lying dead

on the roof of this building,

where nobody would find me

for, at least, a couple of weeks and

by then I’d be a stinking, 

rotting corpse, that no one would be able

to look at and

that fucking rat

would be fat and happy and

if there is one thing on this earth

that I’m not going to allow to happen,

it’s to let that

fat, goddamn rat

win.

[maxmundan]

"It's been twelve minutes since my last shot," I say out loud, to no one in particular. I mean my last shot of heroin and cocaine, not the last shot from the .45 in my hand. That last shot was three minutes ago, at that huge fucking rat down in the alley below. I'll shoot at it again, too, the next time it shows its ugly mug. I'm gonna kill that stinkin' rat And there's nothin' you can do to stop me the fact that it's been twelve minutes since my last shot of heroin and cocaine means that I don't have a lot of time to get ready for the next one. I've got to shoot up every fifteen minutes now or I'll start to come down And if I start to come down then I will have to begin taking a very serious look at what I'm doing with my life And sweet, suffering Jesus knows that I sure as hell don't want to do that. So it's time to measure the dose and I've got to do this carefully because I'm really fucked up and it would be so easy to make a mistake and my heart already feels like it's going to explode in my chest. So all it would take is just a little too much coke in the mix to pull the plug on my poor, overworked heart and I'd be lying dead on the roof of this building, Where nobody would find me for, at least, a couple of weeks and by then I'd be a stinking, rotting corpse, that no one would be able to look at and that fucking rat would be fat and happy and if there is one thing on this earth that I am not going to allow to happen, it's to let that fat, goddamn rat win.

Max Mundan, One Speedball Over the Line, Sweet Jesus

© David Rutter 2016

Get my new book, “Five Words That Can Cripple a Man” by clicking right  HERE!

[maxmundan]

"It's been twelve minutes since my last shot," I say out loud, to no one in particular. I mean my last shot of heroin and cocaine, not the last shot from the .45 in my hand. That last shot was three minutes ago, at that huge fucking rat down in the alley below. I'll shoot at it again, too, the next time it shows its ugly mug. I'm gonna kill that stinkin' rat And there's nothin' you can do to stop me the fact that it's been twelve minutes since my last shot of heroin and cocaine means that I don't have a lot of time to get ready for the next one. I've got to shoot up every fifteen minutes now or I'll start to come down And if I start to come down then I will have to begin taking a very serious look at what I'm doing with my life And sweet, suffering Jesus knows that I sure as hell don't want to do that. So it's time to measure the dose and I've got to do this carefully because I'm really fucked up and it would be so easy to make a mistake and my heart already feels like it's going to explode in my chest. So all it would take is just a little too much coke in the mix to pull the plug on my poor, overworked heart and I'd be lying dead on the roof of this building, Where nobody would find me for, at least, a couple of weeks and by then I'd be a stinking, rotting corpse, that no one would be able to look at and that fucking rat would be fat and happy and if there is one thing on this earth that I am not going to allow to happen, it's to let that fat, goddamn rat win.

Max Mundan, One Speedball Over the Line, Sweet Jesus

© David Rutter 2014

Purchase my new book, “Everyone is Broken”, by clicking HERE!