Stained fingers;
chain smoking,
drinking begins early.
Water to drown out the hunger,
I can't wait to feel empty again.
My hands grasp for a semblance of
flesh over bones,
I just want to
Feel something,
anything
Instead, my hands tremble and quake,
I crave something I cannot have.
A night with Prince Valium
and a bottle of wine,
what comfort.
Yet I lie here nervously tapping;
hoping that,
you too,
crave something you cannot have
and that,
that something is me.
What comfort it would be,
knowing with certainty
that the thought of me
brings you torment
just as you,
me.
What a miserable existence
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Note: I'm sorry these are so short, but I really hope these resonate with someone. I have to be in a dark place when I write, so forgive me if these take a while to post.
Also if anyone is reading, please comment and vote. It'd make me immensely happy to know someone is enjoying these.
a/r
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For You
PoetryThis is for you. If you're seeing this, I hope you read it. A collection of my poetry. Ongoing.
