Hooked Part III (Tequila’s Story)

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Every addict has their story,

The pain, the addiction, fading dreams of happiness and glory,

Tequila, an innocent young girl, robbed of her dreams,

Father stole her virginity, God heard her crying, heard her scream,

Cursed semen, Tequila the drug fiend is living with demons,

She blocks them out with drugs, dreaming she hopes to never see them…

again, but they always return after the high to haunt her again, there is no end,

She has nobody to turn to, she has no family and she has no friends,

A lonely drug addicted prostitute serving men in a dirty crack den,

The cycle never ends, I’m seeing madness writing with my pen,

God’s hand paints pictures in my head, I can see Tequila off her head,

She is too high to move out of bed, hooked it’s a shame she’d be better off dead,

 

Crack and smack are two killers,

temporary pain healers,

Making millionaires out of drug dealers,

killed a young girl called Tequila,

Feel her…pain, raped by her Daddy on her 16th birthday, squealed…

in agony, the worst day violated the worst way the pain is too real…

to deal with, she ran away from home, far away from her rapist father Neil,

Out on the street all alone, she needs to make a living so she can eat a hot meal,

Needs to find a place to live, thoughts are negative, turned to drugs to heal…

her wounds, it only numbs her pain, now she’s on the corner wearing heels,

She kneels in front of strangers, turned to prostitution to support her habit turned addiction,

Never told a soul what happened, no story, no conviction,

Trying to start a new life, living with the pain in secret her heart suffered a crucifixion,

She needs more clients in order to pay the rent, a young girl is facing eviction,

This is my depiction of a lost soul, stories like this are fact not fiction,

It hurts to say Tequila will be dead before she turns 25, that was my prediction,

Years later, I read a story in the paper that stuck like glue to my brain,

About a young girl who loved to snort cocaine and shoot heroin into her veins,

She couldn’t shoot a gun, she couldn’t protect herself from those who inflicted pain,

She was a vulnerable prostitute found slain, murdered for no reason by somebody insane,

Found on the floor dead by the drain in a puddle of her own blood in the pouring rain,

Those dark eyes saw so much tragedy even before she was a victim of murder,

She served men, so the drug dealers could serve her, street souls didn’t deserve her,

She was a troubled soul, her life was torture from beginning to end, please explain…

Why people treat each other like this? Truly it hurts my heart and baffles my brain,

She could have achieved so much, her father is to blame for igniting the flame,

No shame, addiction had her locked in chains, needle marks on her veins,

Such a shame, another victim of this deadly game, Tequila was her name,

 

Every addict has their story,

The pain, the addiction, fading dreams of happiness and glory,

Tequila, an innocent young girl robbed of her hopes and dreams,

Father stole her virginity, God heard her weeping and heard her scream,

Cursed semen, Tequila the drug fiend is living with demons,

She blocks them out with drugs, dreaming hoping to never see them…

again, but they always return when the high ends to haunt her again, there is no end,

She has nobody to turn to, she has no family and no friends,

A lonely drug addicted prostitute serving men in a dirty crack den,

The circle of tragic events refuses to end, I see madness writing with my pen,

God’s hand paints pictures in my head, vivid pictures puddles of liquid…red,

Tequila rests her dead in her rest bed, sleeping forever as she is dead.

 

 

Written by The perspicacious Outcast (John Paul Harrington)

Originally written: 25th September 2015

Picture found on google.

 

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