Sep 2016
It looked like empty bottles strewn around my room and filling the dresser drawers... It looked like being kicked out of the best place I had ever lived, looking back, feeling the guilt in the pit of my stomach. It looked like the tears in your eyes... I saw shame in everyone's eyes like a reflection of my insides, torn up and beat to hell.
It sounded like the pain in your voice. It sounded like heart-wrenching sobs. It sounded like an 808 drum beating inside of my chest, far too fast. Like creaking sounds, and leaves crunching, the shuffle of the doorknob when I tried to break in. A car door opening, my fingers slipping in and out of bags... It sounded like desperation. Voices of reason I chose to ignore. My disease spoke louder.
It smelled like smoke and incense. It smelled like candles. It smelled like peach Ciroc. It smelled like cigars. It smelled like ramen noodles. It smelled like cigarettes. It smelled like puke and self-hate. It smelled like the scent of you on your t-shirt fading away.
It tasted like every bitter Xanax I shoved past my ******* teeth. It tasted like blood filling my mouth, and the ***** on the ground. Like ten thousand shots that were never enough for me to just put the ******* bottle down.
It felt like hands I never wanted to touch me. Like stomach pain, needle ******, full veins, and then numb, numb, numb. Felt like a broken heart and the bumps of the scars coating my skin. Felt like each punch and hit you ever laid on my head, my ribs, my legs... it felt like pain. It was pain... It was pain.
It sounded like the pain in your voice. It sounded like heart-wrenching sobs. It sounded like an 808 drum beating inside of my chest, far too fast. Like creaking sounds, and leaves crunching, the shuffle of the doorknob when I tried to break in. A car door opening, my fingers slipping in and out of bags... It sounded like desperation. Voices of reason I chose to ignore. My disease spoke louder.
It smelled like smoke and incense. It smelled like candles. It smelled like peach Ciroc. It smelled like cigars. It smelled like ramen noodles. It smelled like cigarettes. It smelled like puke and self-hate. It smelled like the scent of you on your t-shirt fading away.
It tasted like every bitter Xanax I shoved past my ******* teeth. It tasted like blood filling my mouth, and the ***** on the ground. Like ten thousand shots that were never enough for me to just put the ******* bottle down.
It felt like hands I never wanted to touch me. Like stomach pain, needle ******, full veins, and then numb, numb, numb. Felt like a broken heart and the bumps of the scars coating my skin. Felt like each punch and hit you ever laid on my head, my ribs, my legs... it felt like pain. It was pain... It was pain.
