You can see through me like a plastic water bottle. Looks a little blurry at first when full, but yet settle on the stomach when not stumbling around. The smell is like oceans water in the summers sun. As tired as the dead leafs in winters less colorful. When drowned by my hand, everything is gone. When swallowing is my best defense, it takes on a different pain of loss in friends. Closing of my eyes...I drift off in which I won't be returning. They say it takes time, addiction isn't the way.
An addiction I ask...pain is my addiction.
It never goes away, its always thriving through me. So is addiction of my thirst what's kills me or is it the pain of loving without worrying about tomorrow?
Went through my high school journal and found this from my many notes and writings...