I hate beaches.
My mother always liked them.
They were so cold and lonely.
The water was too salty.
Why did she like them?
Because it was lonely.
People like things that are bad for them.
She was addicted to the loneliness,
I had a friend addicted to *******.
Another, addicted to cigarettes.
And I'm addicted to pain.
Sometimes, more often than not,
I give myself nightmares.
Just so I would cry.
The throb of my heart,
The swelling of my throat,
I enjoy that.
I give the pain to myself so much
That I want to punch it out of me.
Then I wonder why I do it.
I guess that's what addiction is.
You know it reeks havoc on you.
But you still want it.