Content warning
This story may contain sensitive material or discuss topics that some readers may find distressing. Reader discretion is advised. The views and opinions expressed in this story are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of Vocal.
Stolen
I should have asked instead of stealing 3 energy drinks from my dad.
"You're a fucking thief," he told me.
I'm not trying to be.
I just want to stay awake all day
and excess caffeine is the only way.
I'm always so damn tired.
My brain has been rewired
for caffeine to be the only way
and now I have to pay.
I will absolutely admit
I deserve to pay for it.
I know it isn't ideal
for anyone to steal.
About the Creator
Rene Peters
I write what I know, usually in the form of poetry. I tend to lean towards mental health, epilepsy, and loss/grieving.
Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.
Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also pledge your support or give them a one-off tip, letting them know you appreciate their work.
Keep reading
More stories from Rene Peters and writers in Poets and other communities.
Message Me Afterwards
>That was a bad idea. I thought you knew… >Oh, the pathos! I don’t really know you as well as I should. In fact, I may not know the real you at all. That essential, sparkling you that you only reveal to a select few. Had I been paying more attention to the stories you are so fond of telling, in which you are invariably author, narrator and protagonist, I would not have been so foolish as to set you up on a blind date. After all, no friend has ever done anything of the kind for another. That’s preposterous. What is a friend, really?
By D. J. Reddall5 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
I like this. Good work