im the lucky one here

Speculate.
Drinking, drugs, alcoholism, addiction.
Want, need, give, pull, kick, scream, die to live.
Snort, gulp, burn, smile, cry, scream, silence.
Me.
Me.
Me.
Love, hate, hate love more.
Drag, exhale, drag, exhale, drag, snub out.
Write, pour, write a little more.
Think.
Think. Drink, drank, drunk.
Wake up, black out.
Take.
Take.
Take.
Wish, want, smolder, ashes.
Point.
You.
You.
You did this to me.

The process of being an addict is as gentle as a plane landing in water. Underneath it all is a raging desire to be what you're not and not be what you are. Seeping anger into blood like chamomile in hot water. Let all good be erased and replaced by destruction. Sad, sad, sad. Happy that you're sad, sad you can't seem to ever be happy. Being scared to the point of sobriety but never allowing it in. Killing yourself slow and deep, like one last good fuck out of a relationship.
I'm reading a million little pieces by james frey, again, and again, I'm so happy I'm not him.

K.