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I want something I can hold Something I can count on my bitten fingernails, taste on my chapped lips I want something real, Something I can smile wolfish grins about when I’m sagging and old. I want something warm Something that can thaw my chest that grows so, so cold. And so, so alone. I feel so alone.  All the time. There’s a voice that whispers wants and pleas into my delusional head A pleasure center rubbed raw one tiny pill at a time It says that I Am Alone Forever, No One Loves Me, Nothing Matters, Thick ropes of dark blue snaking around my tortured brain I just want to make them stop. So I do the only thing I know. Get HIIIIGH. SOOOOOO high. And the voices, they shut the **** up. For a brief beautiful moment in time, I’m fixed. But then my body screams and my thoughts panic at the weight of the influence crushing me Bones and vital organs crumble as I bury my problems, one snort at a time. I don’t know what will **** me first, the depression or the drugs. But for now, I’m following my loneliness out the door.
0
Feb 11, 2013
Feb 11, 2013 at 9:33 PM UTC
I want something I can hold
I want something I can hold Something I can count on my bitten fingernails, taste on my chapped lips I want something real, Something I can smile wolfish grins about when I’m sagging and old. I want something warm Something that can thaw my chest that grows so, so cold. And so, so alone. I feel so alone.  All the time. There’s a voice that whispers wants and pleas into my delusional head A pleasure center rubbed raw one tiny pill at a time It says that I Am Alone Forever, No One Loves Me, Nothing Matters, Thick ropes of dark blue snaking around my tortured brain I just want to make them stop. So I do the only thing I know. Get HIIIIGH. SOOOOOO high. And the voices, they shut the **** up. For a brief beautiful moment in time, I’m fixed. But then my body screams and my thoughts panic at the weight of the influence crushing me Bones and vital organs crumble as I bury my problems, one snort at a time. I don’t know what will **** me first, the depression or the drugs. But for now, I’m following my loneliness out the door.
christina-mccourt
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Feb 11, 2013
Feb 11, 2013 at 9:33 PM UTC
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