fucked. insecore. neurotic. emotional.

just can't stop writing
my addiction
my alcohol
my drug

sucking me up these letters they do
swallowing up those sparkles on your face
they remind me of stars
that star i thought i could someday be

but be...
what the fuck does that mean really

i listen to my nails smash against this keyboard
i'm stomping these feelings, tucking them away

and his goal, he says, is to remove his make-up
mine is to keep it on
can it, will it hide all this residue of you
does it reach the criteria of a woman in control

i'm popping out these eyelashes
maybe it will distract the hurt
apparantly not, though, the cab driver was a witness
saw my swagger as my body passed the headlights

god, not quite the actress i thought i was
not quite that sister
that daughter
that friend

i'll just keep singing songs
that's all that feels right
they explain all
but never enough
but fuck! something has got to suffice

certainly words
absolutely writing
somewhere when looking back at these combinations of letters
there is an answer
i hope
i wait

my heart breaks sometimes
but i wouldn't expect you to understand
what a dramatist!
what ache goes on in this one mind
what pain in the middle of my chest

i don't believe it
this is perpetuated
instigated
created

but creation is real
okay
fine
true

but i am responsible for the condition i am in
and i am in the proccess of accepting this state
and i will change it all right now

give my self some credit
here i go
i have to go get my wife and her man
too drunk to drive
too real to ignore

addictions and their needs
abuse in it's finest