The bottle lifts to my lip as I shake with sobs.
He told me not to, he trust me, yet the craving is overwhelming.
My stomach lurches and vomit rises in my throat.
I'm disgusting.
I am fat and worthless and hideous.
My skin is see through,
yet no one sees the alcohol bubbling in me.
I'm drowning from the inside out,
but no one can revive me.
The shark, alcoholism, has consumed me completely.
The waves of life crash against me,
pushing me down and pulling me under repeatedly.
I can't fight, for each step I take feels like I have breezeblock shoes.
I'm a fish out of water when I am not drunk.
I'm a fish out of water when I am drunk.
There's no hope for me, no hope for my liver.
The bile in my throat rises again, but I'm passed out.
Air is lost from my lungs,
an ocean of alcohol being the only thing in me.
The tears an alcohol a dark, deep, and blue ocean.
Deep down at the bottom where no light shines,
I lay in the white sand and darkness.
The bile in my throat suffocates me but I let it.
YOU ARE READING
The struggle
PuisiThis book will be made up of a collection of my works, written during a period of time in which i suffered extreme depression. These poems will talk about, anorexia, bulimia, self-harm, schizophrenia, anxiety, and a few other things. If you or anyon...
