Drunk Junkie.

The art of disappointing  yourself by hurting the ones you think you love.

Your insides feel heavy.
Your lungs feels pressed by iron.
Iron seems like a curse.
The curse is heavy.


The iron moves upward.
Chokes you.
A feeling is circling around your neck.

The feeling grows fingers.
The fingers grab your neck.
The pressure
Stabs your breath.

And you thought you loved them.
And you still think you do.

This life is heavy.
Let’s float instead.

In isolation.


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