I picked up a beer to numb it out. Not to enjoy it this time. Everything is built up and if I have enough to drink I know I can say the words I think. Even then..
Alcohol makes my mind weaker than it already is and then I’m forced, Forced to say what’s on my mind.. Because that’s what happens when I start off.
Then it spirals.
The worst of the worst thoughts. Anxiety is at the max and all I can do is Cry.
Llora por el hecho de que nunca podría tenerte aunque lo dejara a un lado. Porque está hecho..