Sometimes I just have to let go of the things that matter most and take my addictions with me, inside the emptiness I loathe. The prison cell where I am the only one who breathes and nicotine is the only oxygen I need. Then I walk the lines of hate, the way intoxicated men do, and start stumbling. Should I see your feet when I awake, i'd rather not awake at all..
I sought to end this last time, if I kept count it would be the nth last time last night, and yet I'm about to tell myself for the last time again tonight. I want to drown myself, maybe run head-on against an oncoming bus, or throw myself a thousand feet from the air to the concrete floor. Should I run wild through the streets with a razor and slicing everyone I meet, beat random people up asking for forgiveness as blood squirts, start the engine of my Mazda 323 and ram policemen standing by their checkpoints, or continue this piece of shit no one would bother reading?
I can't believe frying can be fucking healthy. The same way I can't believe in hopes and wishes. The same way I can't believe I'm still writing. The same way I don't believe she loves me.
I wish stars would fall and the moon would hide, I hope they make thunder strike me..
I want to stay trapped inside, I need this massive emptiness to kill me~
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment