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My blood. Oh God my blood.
it flowed from every opened wound on my
body. I feel.. No.. scratch that. I AM broken.
My wrist, my leg i feel it. The bone. Protrding from
my skin. Like some malicous thing, coming to attack me.
Only... It is me. Well a part of me anyways..

I need a doctor.. And some morphine. Yes morphine, morphine
is the God's necter when you're in the condition i seem to be in.
I'm seeping blood from my pores.. Yes i need morphine.. Lots of it.
Maybe some more blood to.

Dying.. I. Am. Dying. There is no other
way to put it. I'm laying here, with glass stuck in every
piece of my skin, and i'm calm.. Maybe the clam before the storm..
Nahh i'm way to calm.. maybe some random person drove by
when i was still un-concious and was like, "Well that seems to
be a horrible car wreck. Oh poor girl.. here i'll just dope her
up with the ever so convient random syringe of numbing drug i have
in my jeans pocket." Damn people. I should be thankfull that the person
that may or maynot've stabbed me with a needle and
inserted anti-feel-any-part-of-your-body- drugs into my blood stream, but they
couldn't even call the damn ambulance for me? People these days.
I tell yea.

At first i thought that maybe the person haddn't really drugged me
but now that i think about it, i am pretty damn funny at the moment.
If i could feel my cheeks maybe i'd be smiling. Or maybe not.. The glass
stuck in my lips would destroy my gums. Okay that's a gross mental picture.
Like invisioning your grandparents in bed... yyyyucckyy poooo!!!!!
Annyy whooree ammm i sssllurrrinngg orrr iss thhhattt juusssttt whhhattt haapppeennnsss
wwhhhheeennnn yooouuu haavee aaaa ssstttrrrannngggerrr frrroommm oonnn sttaaarrr assskkk iiifff
yyyoooouuu neeeeddd assssiissstaannnceee?

  "Ma'am? Ma'am? Can you hear me? Are you hurt? Stay put the
ambulance is on it's way. Stay with me now," blllaahh blllaahhh bllaahhh God!
Some one shut that woman up! I bet she's the kind that has long nails and
fake hair and a really weird name like michelle spelt with a Y and 5 K's. And a p..
But the P is silent. Or maybe it's a man with a really high voice because he's a
druggie and the only way to get high on the job is to snort helium from party ballons..
Yeah i like the secound one better... More amusing to think about..
okay so i felt like starting a story.. And so i typed.. and if you like it i would love a comment to continue or a comment to stop because myh words are burning a hole in the o zone layer with how much they suck..
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Submitted on
August 22, 2012
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