Creative writing

Sleep evades me on this cold rainy winters night She cast doubt upon me like a light rain shower For a moment there was air to breath Now I see the truth of it all Dying is a release back into the deepest cold Am I sitting upon the doorway and fear what may be My head has tremors and the cold hits my hands No one to blame here this was all me I got myself sick when others coughed in my face Easy for tiny micro-organisms to eat away the hope of today Falling into depression over feeling so bad physically Left to wallow in the pit of despair  

Santa get your ass in the car and lets go. What are you doing? I told her I wanted that. I am tired of not getting what I want. You always get what you want. I want this so badly.  I need that right now. Look at those prices. I can't afford that.  I can get lay away. I can take it on credit. He did it I will to. MERRY CHRISTMAS TO THE SHOPPERS

Tickle in my nose, my ears ring Throat hurts, can't breath too good No doctor to see me, no medicine to cure me Now I lay me down to die Maybe tomorrow the aching and chills will go away He draws a long drag off his last cigarette I feel as if I will float now for a moment in time A kind of physical death we all get to feel Mine is here inside of my head Eating away everything good making it all dead Like cork screws driven through the skin The tiniest flicker just isn't there Oh great healers what a fuckin scam Physicians afraid no dam good any more Write your prescriptions of death The cold hits the hands, nose, then legs shaking Dying is the will of the Gods not from men and women who prescribe