I run circles around my own mind.
Keeping thoughts buried. Swallowing heavy silence.
Lock it up tight and never let anyone know.
Heavy topics that I let slide,
they linger on my skin,
I try to scrub the shame away.
Silence.
Screams that get lodged in my throat.
Finding the courage to speak in the bottom of a bottle.
Drunk fights and sober apologies.
I'm sorry that I finally let my mind speak.
Honest thoughts that I keep locked up tight.
I'm sorry that I'm only honest with a high enough percentage in my veins.
That the powder keeps me numb and the crystals keep me moving.
You tell me that I'm fun.
I keep my answer in my throat.
Take a sip to wash it down.
I want to tell you that the path I'm on is not a fun one.
It's one that I know the end of.
One that I've seen before.
I wonder if you'll still think of me as fun at the end of it.
YOU ARE READING
The diary of Seth Alexander
Non-Fictionas the title suggests, this is legit going to be my diary. and yes, most diaries are supposed to be secret, but I have always been an open book. I like to pretend to be mysterious, but the people around me will all tell you that I am someone who do...
