It’s at the point where cigarettes costs the same as a whole week of groceries.
It’s at the point where my heart breaks and I want to scream because my mind is on fire.
It’s at the point where you complain and I can’t take it anymore.
You blame and you blame other people, but never yourself. I can’t I just can’t do it anymore. I really can’t.

Stop blaming me. Please stop. It has never been my fault. Do not blame this on me.
How come you can scream and yell, but I can’t? How; why am I silenced?
You created this. You did this to yourself.  I want to scream, but no matter what it is silenced. You are pathetic.
It's at the point where I can't handle you anymore.

I thought the breakup wasn't going to come back to haunt me
Boy was I wrong.
It actually squeezes me from a point of not knowing where it hurts.
I wonder if he feels this way.
If he ever felt this way.
Repressing it was a bad idea, foremostly my fault.
I was filling this void with other boys and that wasn't necessarily helping.
Readings his letters of love for me pulled strings I didn't want to be touched.

He's moved on.
He doesn't want me anymore and a part of me breaks for that fact.
I'm not mad that he has moved on, just broken.
My heart breaks and no one is watching me, no one to catch me.
I am lost.
Alone.

Today
I'm sitting in a hospital room with my mother wondering why I am here. I tense my jaw and ***** my hands because I can't deal with this anymore.

Yesterday
I tensed my jaw as words were spat in anger. Oh how it took to not bite back. I closed my eyes and wished to be away from here.

Last Month
I was pacing back and forwards wondering if this would ever come to an end.

Last Year.
I wrote an email in anger pleading for help. No one answered.

5 Years Ago.
I picked up wine bottles and glasses from the lounge floor. Why was I doing this? Why was I cleaning up her mess?

10 Years Ago
Mummy and her boyfriend were having lots of adult drinks. I like staying up after bedtime.

You can never see as far as outside of here.
Just money signs ring in your ears.
It is sad. 42 and never left.  
You think money stops your every move, but no. Your mind does.
Your negative thoughts and attitudes sting; poisons your mind.
And through and through you can never leave here.

Everything in your mind stops you. It is sad. Very. You don’t see experiences or memories you see loss, the minus sign in your transaction.
Which is ironic because the minuses from cigarettes, **** and PlayStation don’t seem to hurt as bad. Funny isn’t it.
Funny how you value **** over fortune.