Updated: Mar 5
I was one big toxic elixir; 100% dead! No one was painting my roses red with love for me. Instead I was getting laid down in a death bed of roses. I walked by and they would smell my rot from my grave and believe me it was pretty deep already. I could not find a single soul that had the heart to bring their chain and winch to pull my casket up at least to shallow ground. But I was that shallow of a person. To even put myself in that environment. But they always say when you hang out with tyrants you become one. Oh, and I fit in so well.
At first, I looked like your average Joe, a smooth sailing pirate. I was great at being a rat. As time creeped by I didn’t even realize I was writing tales from the crypt. My so-called friends Liars, Leakers, and Liberals are always: oh, I got your back! But I didn’t even see it until I was knee deep in my blood of hep c from the knife stabbed in the back and of course might as well give it a thrusted twist because of course my corpse was only one not properly embalmed. The coroner wouldn’t even take the time to properly sew me up. The doctor harvested my organs far too early and put them on the black markets.