KOOL-AID: they’re looking for me

To say I’m scared is a massive understatement.

See, when you’re in the cult, they know everything about you. Your family, your friends.
Gruff had a visit from the cult. Suited bastards, he called them.

Apparently, they are concerned for my safety. Worried about my mental well-being.
Why else would I have left the church unless due to severe mental handicap?

They want to help me. Only they can help me.

Fuckers.

Suddenly, being here in the middle of nowhere sounds like a shit idea.

No one close to hear me scream.

Over reaction, you think? You’ve no idea. They always get people to go back.

I remember the stories. Not sure if were true. Maybe they spread them to keep the fear.

But there was a member who had escaped all the way to South Africa. They were found. They were brought back.

It can happen. I just hope not to me.

 

 

Thanks for reading another instalment of Almost Drank the Kool-Aid.

Poetry writers — something special is coming for you tomorrow. So if you’re looking to get your poems out to a wider audience, make sure you stay tuned!

 

Don’t forget – my ebook 45 Notes on London can be downloaded on your favourite eReader or by hitting the link here.

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