I brought in my pass-out-drunk friend and proceeded to talk about drinking and other drugs the day after. Anything to escape the stress, to forget if even for a little. I never understood addicts until this last year, no, until I moved. Me and my best friend have even set up a plan to eat special brownies and all we lack is a place to eat. I’m surrounded by drugs and other damaging outs, can you blame me for wanting to give in? It doesn’t help that I don’t get hangovers, it takes a lot for me to get drunk, and I’m easily tipsy. So many years I’ve said no, taken “the high road”, I’ve changed so much…
skin is starting to pull tighter around now obvious bones
once hidden veins can be traced from the tips of my finger to my armpits
the cold chills me to my core through unusually many layers of clothes
seeing food is enough to make my stomach twist and turn
energy is at an all-time low
sleep is difficult and never enough
migraines are a common occurrence
sheer will is all that keeps me going
the words and stares pierce me like a dull knife
while they see something beautiful
I suffer the price
I hate the times when my mind goes into overdrive and I want a couple dozen contradictive things. Like now I want to shout, cry, punch something anything, call the person I like, drink myself into oblivion, go to sleep, kiss someone, drag a blade across my skin, look at the stars, read, imagine the future, escape the loneliness, write, colour, eat until I throw up, work out, do nothing, run away, remember the past, be alone, and for this all to end.
And then they smiled, all tension dropping from their ever serious face, the infamous sparkle bright in their eyes. The magic lasted but a second as the corners of their mouth drooped lower than they were before, shame and defeat darkening their eyes, all evil of the day rushing through their mind at once. Tears threatened to roll down their cheeks and they swallowed hard. They noticed me staring and gave me a shaky smile that didn’t reach their eyes, eyes that were silently begging me not to say a word. I obliged, hoping that one day these fleeting moments of their beauty would turn to hours, to days. If anything, they deserved the happiness they inspired in me. They were my flicker of light in a place of darkness and demons.
I desire foods, but I don’t want to eat them
I long for company, yet let no one near
I ache to rest, nevertheless I remain awake
I seek music, though no song soothes my ears
I believe it’s more the feeling that they used to give than the matters itself which I long for and as they no longer supply it I grow hungry and restless. Wherever shall I find my comfort and move on from temporary distractions?