She's snapped all her needles and sits cold and alone

Rocking and sweating, her eyes fixed on the phone

A decision to make; which person to call?

Knowing either way, this'll be the end of it all.

 

Should she ring home to her  mam and dad

And return to the life that she once had?

Be drawn back into the family's loving embrace

Standing at their door with no shoes or suitcase

Maybe go back to school or find a job?

Quit sleeping in squats, living life on the rob.

Or.

She could call her dealer.

He's be here in five minutes with the gear.

A quick fix and the drugs would then commandeer

Her mind and take all these bad feelings away,

And for a short while at least, it'll all be okay,

But then the cycle will start all over again

And the demons once more will creep into her brain,

Her nerves will jangle and her skin will crawl,

And there'll be no cushion to soften the fall

Of the oblivion of being high and numbing the pain,

She;ll crave the sting of the needle entering her vein,

Needing an escape from her own thoughts and fears,

A way to bury the relentless tears,

To eradicate the memories and stifle the screams

And forget that she once had hopes and dreams.

Is it worth it?

She picks up the phone...