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All this pain.
It hurts like a bitch.

I close my eyes not to feel or at least feel it less but it only gets worse.

I can’t afford to breathe.

I cannot sleep.

The pain won’t give me the pleasure. His voice which is supposed to give me comfort is like a sharp knife. I just want him to stop talking and leave me alone.

But I don’t want him to go. God no. I don’t want to be alone in case I close my eyes forever.

I try to look at him but I can’t see a thing. It’s all blurred.

Am tempted to think that I will die soon but then again my life is more meaningful when am alive.

If I die, these guys will moan me for only a week. My mother will maybe cry more and my dad’s pressure will go up but my sister will get used to sleeping alone. It might be a little hard but time is the healer of all disconfirmations. I can’t do this anymore. I have to chase him away because he can be judgmental.

I will be okay baby just go.

I open up my closet and find my two friends since all this started. It started as a joke one day with a friend. The goal was to tell that handsome guy that I liked him. I know I have a boyfriend but hey am just human. Maybe that is a lame excuse; everybody loves the sparks that come with new people.

I start with water for the meds. Fine. I put in some gin. You don’t know how terrible and devastating it was to stay with him five hours. That meant that I couldn’t touch booze for seven hours. Two hours to pretend sober.

The first sip is like a taste of paradise. This is my testimony. And then I will need to confess on Sunday. Forgive me father for I have sinned. Suddenly I don’t feel cold anymore.

The booze is kicking in and I love the feeling.  I close my eyes for a moment. I am slowly forgetting the pain. I put on some music and life is sweet. This is my forth tot and I am not anywhere near the end.

Tonight like many other nights, it’s just me and my bottle. After my blood is drowned in alcohol I will call that cute guy and tell him how I love his eyes and lips. I mean how can someone be that beautiful? Those brown eyes.

These pills are fucking expensive and they take long to work but hey, when they kick in, it’s like magic. And this booze is just my love.

Stacey says that I am hiding and all that crap. I know it is true but they don’t know half of what I am going through. They only think they understand but all they can nearly understand is only an 8th of it. This pain; only my pills and booze can understand.




By Gemini Spice

Creative And Vivacious Poet

One thought on “Pills And Booze”

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