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An urban legend
to fall in love
at first sight.
Introduced to my
at only 16.
The curse of addiction-
no match for
the energy we create.
To stand by one another
through all the things
that hurt.  
In you,
I see everything,
my life truly began.
Not a doubt,
I knew
You’d be holding my hand.
And I love you,
in a way only
and I,
will ever understand.
I found something of yours
the other day.
And it took me back
to another place.
To a time when
my friend,
were not dead.
And I was long into addiction,
where things made sense
and I didn't have to tell you,
where I'd been.
And I didn't know you,
I didn't have to.
Neither of us
asked questions.
Simplicity as a friend.
But you see,
this is before you were dead.
Best friend,
Best friend..
My eyes are dry,
like when you sit in front of a TV
surrounded by darkness
for hours after hours.
Except I am out in the world,
only with nothing around to catch my eye.
I am not beautiful,
without the radiance that you supply.
when you aren't with me,
I lack a certain feeling of safety,
and can’t tolerate the things that
usually don’t bother me.
Because I know when I come home
after a long day full of chilly hallways
and disappointment from people who will never understand me
you are not in my bed,
waiting patiently
to hold me.
I feel the time that I
stole from myself
creeping up behind me,
pushing me towards a
that I cannot be sure of.
I wish I wouldn't have spent so much time ******* up.
Everything I said is gone,

It’s the smoke shot into choking lungs.

Sometimes I wonder why I’m so cold,

When the sun shines on both sides of my skin-

Feeding my third eye.

My veins are caves,

growing crystals from wall to wall.

The frame of my face is sinking in,

‘N my cheeks are turning grey.

I’ll close my eyes with the straw to my nose,

and go in for the kiss.

Wait for the rush, an arrow that surely won’t miss.

My pupils will twitch and tweak and twitch.

Addiction, a troll living under a bridge.

Slow suicide, it payed off.

An addiction to death.

Pleasurably, I continue to torture this body that just doesn’t fit.

I’m dead, and I guess I didn’t know it.

Snapshots in my skull turn on ideas,

Surely fatal if I let them grow.

I question if I’m breathing,

And then I just makes me feel more alive.

Even while I howl at the moon,

I ponder if I’m insane.

A bulb to my lips,

Oh foxy, let me lose my grip.

All I’ve got to do is wait to get away.

‘N I ain’t sane ‘cause Mercury's in my brain.
This was written roughly two years ago at the peak of my addiction.
And even after I have removed myself from the hell of addiction,
I will forever be stuck in my head,
unable to bring these words to fall properly from my tongue.
My heart can only be freed through pen and ink
Nobody will care to read these words, but they are my reality.
My eighteenth birthday is approaching faster than I expected.
And I'm dreading that day,
when legally nobody needs to care about me.
Things aren't ready,
not my mind,
or my money,
for me to build a future.
And I'm under so much pressure,
because someday when everybody has left me
I will be alone,
stuck thinking about what I did wrong on my
Eighteenth birthday.
So stressed out. Everyone needs to quit asking what I plan to do with my life. I really don't ******* know right now.
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