Poser- (experiment with slang and swearing)

Bang bang, you're dead
The poem started, and he wished that could be the case. Oh how he wished that the pain deep in his chest would just go, even feeling nothing would be better than this.

Fifty bullets in your head
He wasn't greedy, he just wanted the one. But he didn't have a gun, and no contacts from which to borrow one. It was another bad day for Dene, after forcing down his Prozac dose for the day he dragged his feet to work, serving ungrateful fucks at the till of the corner shop, before getting sent home for being his boss' idea of 'too drunk'. His dented and scuffed hip flask tucked well away in his jeans, he denied being drunk at all, but his pissy-pants, politically correct, fucktard boss sent him home anyway. His mother had warned against people like that, who judge you for no reason, it's what everyone seemed to do to him.

He wished everyone would just leave him alone, but then the only one he didn't want gone was the first to give up on him, calling him a "lost cause" and pissing off with some prick in a shark tooth necklace. But that's okay, his mother hadn't approved of her anyway.

Sometimes he missed his car, other times he was glad it was gone. It meant he didn't have to pay parking to stay home all day. He pumped Drop Dead Cynical by Amaranthe out of his stereo at full volume, mainly to piss off the old bitch who lived in the flat below. Once she hit her ceiling so hard the broom handle went straight through it, she expected Dene to pay, but he of course just pretended not to have any clue who she was. He figured one of these days she'd be put in a home, then someone hot could move in there instead. "I wouldn't mind if it was a hot woman under me." He'd joked with his friends, before they'd gone too of course. No one lasted forever, so he shrugged them off like an oversized coat. He didn't need them to hold him back anyway. Those pricks were going anywhere, and Dene knew he was destined for more, perhaps just on the Other Side.

He settled for another smoke, not caring about the dangers of it, he'd likely be dead before cancer even decided to develop.

He decided to update his Facebook, Twitter and Tumblr, keeping everyone updated on his suicidal status. Flicking through his news feeds, everyone seemed to be depressed today.