I spend quite a few hours on the clock contemplating my life reliving and the memories of drunk nights on the floor and mornings we chased the sunrise and I try to be profound but the words cant seem to climb my throat to reach the air. The words unsaid often tear holes in our stomachs and make our tongues bleed from clenching them between our teeth. This stream of consciouness is all I can muster. But I do believe this anguish is better than spreading the disease to you, because I’ve already caused so many nights of gut twisting agony.
I have a pitch black mind with twisted words and false intentions. I am a poison I have created myself and to remove the venom you must **** it out from the source. Its wrong of me to linger in your blood and your veins when I have nothing good to give. I am merely a parasite. You can strive once you have been healed of me.
Do not let this discourage you. I am not who am I am. I’m a shadow of the past. I am venomous and vindictive and wrong.
I must repair this.
You must get up, and keep living.