I roll the joint

between fingers

with short,

jagged nails.

I’ve been

biting them again

Between

Overeating

And over thinking

About the bottom of

The bottle

Sitting beside me.

Is it survival still?

Survival

Or distraction?

Or are they

one in the same

If we only focus

On reality

Do we lose

our entire minds?

My skin

Is dry

Flaky

Even though

all I fucking do

Is drink water

And pee it back out

Twenty minutes later

I swear to god

All day long

My lips

Are chapped,

Rubbed raw

Against the paper

My lungs

Breathe in

Deep

Set it all on fire.

Start over again.

Start with me.

Published by scarletbxx

A ghost, a magician, an afternoon storm. I’ll tell you my secrets if you tell me yours.

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