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Hands shaking breath quickening shes begining to break, eyes glistening mouth dry her life is in her hands she can either live or die. Flick the lighter stare into the flame blow it out like a candle. Where is your self control? Dig the sharp edge into your palm, argue with yourself. Swallow the lump that has began to grow into the size of a rock. Eyes dart like a scared child lost looking for their parents. This is it, what will you choose? Turning the music up on high she takes the lifeless cold blooded object and begins to carve like a thanksgivig turkey, she knows she wont sleep tonight so she cuts and she cuts digging deeper and deeper. Letting out a sigh of pleasure, of calmness for just a little while. She'll put the tools away and clean up the evidence making sure no one will find out shes getting bad again. Phone rings she picks it up to turn of the alarm that reminds her that reality still hasnt changed that she still needs to face the day with a forced smile and a see through laugh. The moment she steps out the door it calls to her and she just cant escape. Her life was never hers it was always the one thing that controlled her happiness. No one must know, this addiction comes with a price so say goodbye to your clean skin and say hello to a hollow shell of yourself...
Alcohol is that nagging voice that tells you to drink a little more. That enough isn't enough. So you'll tip the bottle and the liquid is like fire going down the windpipe but that's what you want. You want to feel on fire so then people have a reason to care for you
My friends abroad think I'm peculiarly English
My English friends think I'm peculiarly northern
My northern friends just think I'm peculiar
But at least I've got friends

                                             By Phil Roberts
 Dec 2015 R Tollefson
Ishita
Don't be a part of my life.
Be  my  life .
7-12-15
Sickened by love.
 Dec 2015 R Tollefson
KA Lix
You can ask whatever you want, darling but

Oh please, don't ask me why I'm always angry

Please don't ask me why my lungs are always filled with fire

When fire is all you've ever spat at me
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