3AM Thoughts (20)

So young yet so damaged. So calm yet so frustrated inside. A look in the mirror, control these unshed tears, I say to my reflection. Broken and corrupted, how blissfully ugly – comes a sharp reply from the mirror. Vodka tastes sweeter than these bitter feelings. What hurts you less? the sharp edges of a 9-inch razor blade feel like soft caresses as compared to your words. No time, no time now. Run away. Stop, catch your breath. But don’t look back. Throw me a rope; the noose must be tight. A jab of pain and confusion covers my shadowy halo. Where do I go from here? There’s just the fork in the road up ahead, no destination. But oh no, look. Your ghost obstructs my view. Shake hands. Let’s be strangers once more. It is an easy enough game. Here, the wind seems closer. There, your heart drifts further. You fake everything; dripping memories I try in vain to forget. It is pointless. I sing a lovesong, but the orchestra is empty. I go the extra mile for you but you never bother to ask me to stop, catch my breath. Now you are lost, I am fading; you are numb, I am spent – we become wasted. So young yet so wasted.

Filed under: Amateur, eccedentesiast, eleutheromaniac Tagged: amateur