I allowed the pain to enter me. In hope it would leave, destroy a few things first, of course.
The pain has slowly become me. I do nothing.
I cry and sleep, never eat, few showers a week.
drowning my sorrows in illegal drinks, because you can't drink at 18.
So of course no day drinking. Only day smoking.
Filling my lungs with something that will slowly **** me.
You'd be mad if you knew. My excuse?
You were slowly killing me too.