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Rowan S Jan 5
Creeping guilt
Haunting shame
Liquid burn
Checking out now
When my mind won't slow
Distilled rye
Filling the gray canyons, the crevices
Pulsing, swimming fire
Hopes that this poison
This pleasure
Will scorch
And end
This madness
Old poem. I used to drink for many reasons, but ultimately, it was always me searching for oblivion.
Vanessa Nov 2014
My lips are pierced shut
While my brain is scattering across the floor.
Everything is spilling out in front of you.
I'm breaking down
And loosing composure.

Struggling to collect the the pieces
In time before you make sense of it all.
Tiny fragments of grey matter
Covered in words you should have never read.

— The End —