Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2015
It's been awhile since I was this sober.
I believe I was about nine the last time.
You never realize you're completely fried, when you're always high.

Six straight years of ***, cigarettes, happy pills, and the occasional fun powder. Making **** sure it never ends, because if it ever did, I would know what it is I'm running from.

Running around ****** felt like a safety cushion.
Constantly stopping me from collapsing on the floor.
Stopping my bones from shattering, my blood and bile from gushing out, and my insides from exploding.

I think the fall would've killed me had I experienced the last six years sober.
I guess in the long run the highs are going to **** me the same way being sober would.
My insides are rotting, and my brain is fried.

I'm going to crumble.
Eve Lastnamehere
Written by
Eve Lastnamehere  Nowhere.
(Nowhere.)   
396
   GaryFairy
Please log in to view and add comments on poems