I go to work, high and hungover.
Shuffling feet leave a trail to the coffee *** sleep shaking off with every step.
I drunkenly stumble through my night, redundancy oozing out of every pore, mixing with the *** soaked sweat that trickles down my face.
Purgatory exists inside of me; its numbing gray swallowing up everything in my field of vision & permeating my thoughts.
Creeping. Crawling. Consuming.
The Golden Years are rusting under my fingertips, and I stand idly by, watching it happen.
Aug 19, 2014
Aug 19, 2014 at 12:03 PM UTC
I go to work, high and hungover.
Shuffling feet leave a trail to the coffee *** sleep shaking off with every step.
I drunkenly stumble through my night, redundancy oozing out of every pore, mixing with the *** soaked sweat that trickles down my face.
Purgatory exists inside of me; its numbing gray swallowing up everything in my field of vision & permeating my thoughts.
Creeping. Crawling. Consuming.
The Golden Years are rusting under my fingertips, and I stand idly by, watching it happen.
