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abigail Jun 2014
I wish I could break myself into a million little pieces.
I want to be used for fun.
Not used to **** the pain.
I wish I could hide.
I wish I could scream at her to out me down!
With a year streaming down her face, she crawls to me for comfort.
I'm afraid to witness the outcome again.
I cause more bad than good at times.
"Put me down," I cry.
She can't hear me though.
My voice is a whisper compared to the devil shouting on her shoulder.
"Take another sip," he scoffs at her.
She listens.
Her children come home and empty me down the drain.
I feel a sudden relief,
Until the next day.
The cycle never ends.
Sadness makes her start.
Guiltiness makes her finish.
And the next day, at the liquor store,
Regret makes her start all over.

— The End —