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Bad Tongue Talking

20 Sunday Mar 2016

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, stories, Uncategorized

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Tags

escape, medication, mental facility, murder, pills

As I sit in My Padded Cell.

There is nothing to do but stare at the Walls.

And wait for My Medication to take effect.

But it wont have a chance to.

Because I have been hiding the Pills up My Sleeve.

I am getting tired of this place.

It is time to get up and leave.

I have been Palming My Medication for about a week

now.

I feel good but bad at the same time.

Then I slip into a void.

I can hear a Bad Tongue talking

That Tongue is really wagging.

Telling Me a lot of Bad things to do.

That Bad Tongue is still nagging.

it is Time that the Cuckoo flew.

I arrived at this Mental Facility about Ten Years

ago now.

For committing a few Misdemeanors.

They say that I Murdered Ten People’

but I don’t remember a thing.

So My Lawyer sought an Insanity Plea.

And somehow the Judge agreed.

And He banged down His Gavel.

Ten Years is a long time to be locked away in the

Crazy House.

Ten Years without feeling the Sun on My Back.

Ten Years in Solitary Confinement

In this fucking Padded Cell.

Just as I start to feel better.

I step a little closer to Hell.

Then that Bad Tongue starts to talk to Me again.

I have never heard so many Bad Words.

Then I see a Blackboard covered in Chalk.

And what is written on that Board is an escape plan.

That Bad Tongue is whispering close to My ear.

Telling Me that soon I will be a free Man.

The escape plan on that imaginary Blackboard

Is now imprinted in My Brain.

There is an Orderly who works on My Floor.

And He looks a lot like Me.

His Name is Eddie McBain.

And when the time is right we will swap places.

Eddie has no idea I am about to become Him.

He hasn’t a clue of what lays ahead.

He just goes about His Business.

He is getting closer and closer to My Room.

If everything goes as planned

Eddie McBain will soon be Dead.

Eddie has no idea that I have been palming My Medication.

I try to look calm and mellow

To make Eddie feel at ease.

But My Mind is going in crazy circles looking for some

satisfaction.

Come on Eddie just a little closer please.

That Bad Tongue is still talking.

I think Someone is living in My Brain.

That Bad Tongue never has anything good to say.

It tells Me the Title of a good Book

‘A Thousand and One ways to inflict some pain.

Even though I don’t wont to Hear.

I listen to every Word the Bad Tongue has to say.

Then everything becomes very clear.

Today will be Eddie McBains last Day.

As Eddie gets close to My Door.

I slide My empty Food tray through the Slot

Acting like I wouldn’t hurt a Fly.

But I feel a lot like Hannibal Lecter

One messed up scary Guy.

As Eddie turns to leave.

I call out that I am not feeling well.

I really need to see the Doctor.

Fooling Eddie turns out to be an easy sell.

Because He actually opens My Door.

Eddie is apprehensive as He approaches My Bed.

But I do a great piece of acting.

And I tell Him that I have a bad pain in My Head.

Maybe I have a Brain Tumour?

And there is one thing I don’t tell Eddie.

And that is I have a wicked cruel sense of humour.

I tell Eddie that I might feel better with a couple of

Codiene.

And as He turns to the Medicine trolley.

I pounce.

I am in two minds.

Kill Him messy or Kill Him clean?

Well I don’t mind a bit of a mess.

So I spin Eddie around.

And bite down on His Throat.

Well Eddie struggles making a God awful sound.

Then His Blood starts to spurt spraying the Walls.

Giving it a Glossy Red Top Coat.

Then the Bad Tongue is talking.

‘How can you change clothes with Eddie now?”

‘They are covered in Blood and Shit”

I realise that the Bad Tongue is telling the truth

I didn’t think about that bit.

Then I notice Eddies Key Ring and a Foot long Baton

That Key Ring is holding about Fifty Keys

In all different shapes and sizes.

So I grab the Keys and the Baton.

If I am to escape before the Sun rises

I better get a crack on.

One good thing about a Mental Facility.

Is that it is not a Prison.

So while there is Security.

There are only Two Guards on each Floor.

My plan is nice and simple.

I will walk right out of the Door.

Then that Bad Tongue whispers in My Ear.

‘Forget about escaping Kill every Guard that You can’

He gets right in My Face.

“And then blow up the whole fucking place”

While I was listening to the Bad Tongue

I have been caught off guard.

By a Guard.

He starts to say something.

But I am on Him in a Flash.

And with a twist I snap His Neck

And I keep on twisting like His Head is an ES Light Bulb.

I keep on twisting round and round.

And then with a thud His Head hits the ground.

So I started walking.

And that Bad Tongue keeps on talking.

Filling My Head with more Bad Words.

I have a bit of a Dilemma

Will I carry out the Bad Tongues Murderous plan?

Or return to Bed andĀ  be a Medicated Man?

I think that returning to My Room would be the better

path to follow.

If only that Bad Tongue would shut the Fuck up.

I know that I am a Violent Man.

My Heart is empty and hollow.

I just want to start taking My Meds.

And forget all about the Bad Tongues plan.

There isn’t much I can do about the severed Head

And Blood al over the Corridor

It would take more then a Mop and Bucket

As I turn to go back to My Room.

That Bad Tongue is still talking.

Fuck it.

But I block out the Bad Tongues ramblings

And I make it to My Room

My Brain is all messed up and scrambled

That Bad Tongue is like a Vocalist

Singing out of tune.

Eddie is still laying Dead in My Room

So I wrap Him Up in a Sheet.

And I drag m down the Hall.

I need to find a place to hide Him.

I give Him back His Keys and Baton.

And put Him in a Bathroom Stall.

I return to My Room

Put fresh Sheets on My Bed

God I think I am going to get away with this

That Bad Tongue has gone all silent.

I lay on My Bed acting all sweet and innocent.

So I start to take My Pills like I am supposed to.

And that Bad Tongue is as quiet as a Mouse.

The Bad Tongue is Tongue Tied.

I hope it is not wistful thinking.

But I think the Bad Tongue has Died.

Six Months later and I am still taking My Medication.

With a lot of dedication.

The Police and the Authorities are long gone.

They couldn’t pin Me for the Crime.

And that Bad tongue is still silent

Maybe it is doing Mime?

Even though I am taking all of My Pills

I know that deep down I am still the Violent little old Me.

And I will never rest until I am out of this place.

Footloose and fancy free.

THE END

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories and now if you have the means could you please make a donation so i can achieve my dream and become a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven.

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Painkiller

15 Wednesday Oct 2014

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, stories

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

alcohol, depression, pills, sorrow

As my tears dry they leave a stain

A stain on my feelings,a stain on my

pain.

As my tears no longer flow,they cant

wash away my sorrow

Cant wash away my empty tomorrows

I need a pain killer,bone chiller,

A heart stiller.

There is nothing to look forward to,all

my friends have moved away.

They have all moved on,they now live

on the sunny side of the street.

in a different state,a different country

moved from the cold into the heat.

I am tired of being lonely,living my life

by myself.

I am tired of being rejected,disrespected

Treated like a piece of dirt

I might not show it,but it hurts.

I need a pain killer,bone chiller,heart stiller

The pain leaves a stain,sometimes the stain

Is so bad it will never come out.

And sometimes the pain is so bad I want to

let it all out,scream and shout.

The cut runs deep,it cuts me to the core

I really cant stand it,I cant take it anymore.

I got myself a painkiller,a bone chiller,a

heart stiller.

A packet of pills,to cure all my ills.

Take one at a time,take the whole pack

Once you have taken the lot

thereĀ is no coming back

I don’t really want to end it all

Losing dignity,taking the final fall.

They say love conquers all.

What a crock of shit.

I have never known love,not even a

little bit.

Give me some painkiller,bone chiller

heart stiller.

Always getting kicked around,put down

I am on the ground,I cant get any lower

I can feel something different,my is getting

slower.

The stain is spreading,the pain is more

intense.

Put me out of my misery,don’t keep me

in suspence.

I have taken the painkiller,why am I still

breathing.?

I lay on the floor gasping,dry heaving

I wipe my mouth,realising I am still

alive.

Why? Just give me a needle,put me down

like a dog.

Give me a double dose,go the whole hog.

This so called painkiller isn’t really working

As painkillers go,this one really sucks.

It has no killer punch,no final solution

That is about right,just my freaking luck

I cant even kill myself properly,I am a

failure,i cant do anything right.

The pills didn’t work,but a hand gun might

I will go shopping tomorrow,buy myself a gun

Have a final beer,then have a little fun

When I get home,I am going to do it,with a

Little class.

I will pull the trigger.

Then disappear up my own arse.

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