I need you as a distraction, be that from reality or my self-imposed hell. Give me something good to feel about and revel in. Grab my hand and twirl into me. Let me watch your dress spin as it tries to catch up with you. I want to admire something that enjoys being admired.
Be that tiny dancer in the sand and give me a pirate smile. Hold me closer. Don’t let go baby, I need this.
Make it all go away, even though I know it won’t be permanent. You might be able to mask it for a while though. I’ll take anything you’ve got, and at least I’m trying now. The static in the signal is giving me a momentary reprieve. Thank you, I needed this.
I’m drunk on stupidity.
A drunken man falling over himself because he couldn’t keep control is no different in alcohol than any other vice, simply less graceful.
Sabotage, gluttony, self-pity and the constant distraction from the unknown, they each hold their price and conspire together to trip me up. I fall for it every time too.
I’ve spent precious moments banging my head against the wall rather than coloring in the cracks to make it less obscene. Now I’m trying to save face by being pretentious and this is all garbage.
I can write. I know damn well I can write.
She made me love her. I didn’t want to, but I ended up doing it out of stubbornness. She tricked me. She told me she never wanted someone, she wanted everyone. My ego caused me to take the challenge to be all of it for her. And I was, for a short while. I was until I wasn’t, but it stayed deep inside of me. The time that I was couldn’t be expelled because her magic was too strong and it wrapped itself in the chords of my soul. I can still feel them being plucked by her fingers.
So fuck it all. Fuck the night. Fuck the stupidity. Fuck the distractions. Most importantly, fuck myself for letting it all get in the way.
Too may wasted nights are spent banging my head against the wall. The cracks should be vibrantly colored by now.