pills. drunk

i’m honestly pathetic. it’s weekend after weekend after weekend, getting high or drunk or both, just to numb the pain. just to forget about you, even if it’s just for a few minutes. it’s getting into different car after different car, and with a different boy each time. it’s kiss after meaningless kiss, desperately trying to find somone’s lips that burn brighter than yours. it’s pointless conversation after pointless conversation with anyone who gave me a second look. it’s hour after hour after hour of not sleeping because you’re still in my fucking dreams, every time i close my eyes, you’re rigt there, tattooed on the inside on my eyelids. it’s pill after pill, trying to take away the pain, but i think that this pain is different from the one it’s prescribed for. it’s shot after shot, vodka smoldering my insides, trying to replicate the flame we had when we first met. it’s line after line, slurring my words, stumbling across the floor, mind fucking spinning but still somehow managing to focus on you. it’s the same fucking shit over and over and now it’s not working, maybe it never even did. or maybe i’m addicted. but i’d rather be addicted to drugs because in the end you are way worse for me than drugs will ever be.
—  it’s 2:32 and i’m the only one awake at a party.