My inner being is a never ending web of complex thoughts and ideas that I can’t seem to put into understandable words. I have so much to say that it psychically nauseates me, yet when the opportunity presents itself, I stutter and fumble over deep confusion and the mixed emotions that have piled up so high within my chest that I can no longer breathe freely without confronting wounds, regrets, and silenced desires. I am bruised from the inside out and I fear that nothing within me will ever lit up quite the same way that it used to. The irony of my state mocks me daily. I am empty yet completely full. The emptiness is like a child, constantly demanding time and attention. I attempt to feed it in ways unnatural to me. 10 shots of hard liquor later I find myself outside the realm of reality, and for once, in a state of tranquility. 10 shots of hard liquor later and I can’t recollect the very reasons I began drinking. 10 shots of hard liquor later and I comprehend what it feels like to live without worry and the uncertainty of tomorrow. I collapse onto cement side walks and wake up with scratches and cuts that sting less than the thought of the eroding flowers in my lungs and the floating memories in my head. I yell things from the top of my voice into cold, empty streets and yet I feel like everyone is listening. Suppressed feelings pour out of me almost as quickly as the vomit does. The next morning I remember nothing, yet I feel everything. I try and try again to repeat this routine hoping to kill my sadness. Hoping that one morning, perhaps, I will feel as little as I remember. Praying that in the process of coping, I do not manage to completely lose myself. #memories
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