Irresponsive

those beautiful supple breasts  
forever seem to stiffen by the second  
mirror shows no breath  
idiotically the last thing checked is pulse  
none there leaves me walking last into that bathroom  
                                         for the rest of my life  
I snort a line and yell for an ambulance  
no sirens scream back  
 
drugged up and hopeless  
rigor mortis creeps into my mind  
as the idea of an inevitability  
                                     for those who love the high  
she's as lite as a lighter  
                                               rusted and dry  
I should've did those drugs myself I think  
to let G*d know I tried  
as irresponsible as I've been
I pray her soul's at flight
 
Poem by: M.E.L.