when does the good come?
i can’t tell the difference between the dark corners of my room in comparison
to the dark corners of my mind,
the line between sanity and downright good dirty, they seem impossibly blurred
for my already drunk vision.
no amount of drugs, alcohol, and the best kind of fucking can save me from myself at this point.
i’ve hit self destruct a while go. the countdown is near. my body is getting excited.
i long for my childhood, when everything didn’t make sense and the obvious truth
wasn’t beating me in the face, i could hide, and it was acceptable.
i hate that i’m scared of my own shadow.
i think of the awful nasty gut wrenching creepy craw-lies, and pray to outer-space i can save me from myself one day. i find welts from me to remind myself i’m okay.
where is my silver lining, where is my rain after it pours?
is the light at the end of tunnel coming for me?
when do I start loving me? all these questions and more.
i’d sooner kill myself than have another day without you.
but then again i’d sooner kill myself if i missed my bus one day.
i’m just being honest.
thats probably the dfference between you and I.
