I think there's something wrong with me.
I feel nothing.
And I crave something, anything that will bring me relief.
I feel everything.
The bottle stares at me from across the room.
I shouldn't.
It's 6 in the morning and I haven't slept;
But its a magnet and I'm the metal.
I crave the burn.
I crave a feeling, any feeling.
Knowing I shouldn't;
Knowing it's a slippery slope, but do I care?
Does anyone...
Fire in my chest helps me to remember I can feel...I'm not numb.
I have feelings.
How can I feel so much and so little?
I want everything to stop.
I want quiet.
YOU ARE READING
Wrong
PoetryJust needed to write some stuff down. About feeling numb and trying to fill the unquenchable void. Short poem and as always thanks for reading. TW: Depression and alcohol abuse