I have waited long enough, so please let me come home. Let me feel that warm embrace and call me to the pyre.

Counting the years through Summers alone, But I can’t take back those Winter’s of yours Those icy, blue days, I’m begging to change, Cause I know I’ll never call you home again. What am I after? What do I need? What will help to set me free? My memories linger, through bottles and rage And … Continue reading I have waited long enough, so please let me come home. Let me feel that warm embrace and call me to the pyre.

It’s never as bad as I think it is, until I realize every bottle in my cabinet is empty, and all I can do is wait and see if I’m going to wake up and find tomorrow, or never wake up again.

I think my subconscious is trying to force my throat shut so I can’t keep downing these pills like fucking skittles. Haha, jokes on me, I’ve spent my entire life forcing bullshit out of my mouth, so forcing some more shit back down? It’s easy as 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, … Continue reading It’s never as bad as I think it is, until I realize every bottle in my cabinet is empty, and all I can do is wait and see if I’m going to wake up and find tomorrow, or never wake up again.

I’ll chalk this latest mistake up to another bad decision made in poor lighting. I’m just happy it happened in Winter, so I have a ready-made excuse to always be wearing long sleeved shirts.

My heart remains silent, fearful of the shadows I’ve swallowed in my attempts to quell my hollow soul. With every beat, that darkness is pulled closer, and I’m left hoping this bottle of pills will be enough to keep the demons at bay, or else I’ll need to wash them all away in a rush … Continue reading I’ll chalk this latest mistake up to another bad decision made in poor lighting. I’m just happy it happened in Winter, so I have a ready-made excuse to always be wearing long sleeved shirts.

“For all of the negative emotions I’ve built up in my veins, I’m still an empty, transparent mistake…”

I’m confusing to the public, regardless of the time, place, or lens through which I am viewed. Smartphone cameras consider my face as a smudge, so at least I can avoid being tagged in pictures posted to social media. But if you don’t exist on Facebook, are you even real? Without my opinions being expressed … Continue reading “For all of the negative emotions I’ve built up in my veins, I’m still an empty, transparent mistake…”