with a weak heart, she smoked a ton
paired with weak lungs and an alcohol craving of ten men
god knows when she'll drink herself to death
"but not today, not tonight", she said to herself

n.j.

They say if you have to ask yourself then the answer is probably "yes"
There's such a fine line between normies and the cursed
Me? I've been on both sides
I can tell you that a heroine addict is an addict
I can tell you some people really are sick
But I still look at myself and just think "?"
My life isn't unmanageable
Sometimes I do drink too much
On occasion I do stupid things I regret in the morning
Mostly though, I'm okay
Then it happens...
A trigger
And I'm suddenly feeling out of control
My life becomes a drunken blur and I can't see clearly anymore
Then just as quickly as it started, it stops
Normie life resumes as if I had never gone away
But is it really stopping if a pattern is appearing?
If I am would I be able to admit it?
Maybe I've convinced myself to logically justify a problem
Maybe...
Or maybe I'm just young doing what young people do
Here I am back at square one again
The internal struggle that is me

Blood shot eyes making contact in the mirror,
pleading with the bleeding brain not to think, not to care.

Impaired and unshowered.
Denial runs deep.
Wide eyed and disheveled.
The only thing you ever commit to is drinking yourself to sleep.

And while you slowly ****** yourself,
I toss and turn, dissecting your thirst for freedom
and my adoration for all things unattainable
I try to be more like you; you're talented at being numb

Just how bothered would you be to see our similarities?
And how do you justify acting so different as to yesterday?
Would you be surprised to see that we're both sabotaging ourselves in such noticeable ways?
And how do you sleep at night knowing you could've had me there?
Do you wake up to the memory of my smile and pour another shot, let the alcohol repair?
Or are you convinced that, in me offering myself to you, I have served my purpose?
Am I yet another sentimental soul that fell for your twisted ways and was left feeling worthless?

Please, tell me, am I still myself after you've worn me down to sagging shoulders and blackened lungs?

Not enough strength left within to hold you up on your pedestal
No matter which disguise you wear
No end to confusion, but it's time to stop asking for answers
or for you to care