Sometimes all that keeps me going,
Is the substance abuse.
Like the night sky to the moon,
I couldn't shine without it.
The sour liquid numbs the pain,
It makes me feel whole again.
Perhaps it's wrong to abuse it,
But what would I do without the use of it?
The detachment makes sense,
Better than the detachment that doesn't.
It numbs the depression for awhile,
I might even sneak in a real smile.
So judge me, go ahead,
It's better than self harm or death.
I'll enjoy the buzz,
It's all I can do to be whole,
Call me a fool,
But I don't do it to be cool.
Thank you dearest substance makers,
If you ever need a buyer I'm a taker.
_________
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Cheers to the alcoholics. It's sad, but the pain is real.
• Jane •