It's the crawling the scheming all the self deceiving to get by through the night when I'm alone heavily breathing. It's clutching to the pipe and sucking in the smoke to get the tingly feeling. holding the bottle titled back full throttle till the vision blurs the words slur and my legs are turned to putty. It's wallowing in sorrow with powder on my face nostrils dripping blood head pounding from base. It's that feeling of weakness when you have no power it's the barrel to the head as the cries get louder it's the click of the trigger with no loud boom it's the realization your pathetic but not knowing how to get out of the room. The tingling in the chest like an electrocuted shock, the indigestion and the shallow breaths that follow. The insomnia that deprives the sleep makes you face droop and eyes look hollow. Denial denial denial that it's all fucked up. No acceptance no penance because you've done to much, not seeing the light at the end of the tunnel because you convinced your fucked. It's not going to your friends because you think they don't like you. It's the thought the actions like these that always bite through. You will wind up lonely dead and unloved because you hold it all in for fear of not being good enough.
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