Every thing and Nothing

overdose

Sometimes when you kiss me, I sit there, knees still shaking, and then I open my eyes. And I'm reminded it was a dream by the incessant beeping of my alarm. I could just be lying in bed, where I spend most of my days, wallowing in depression and self pity, and my heart aches to be loved, to be held. I sit there, months after you left me, and then my wrist burn and the ink staining my hands and wrists, seem to seep into the skin, like poison, and I start to wonder about death.

Vomit reaches my mouth and my head pounds to the beat of the music. I don't why I am here again, okay, that's a lie. I spotted him again, I hadn't seen him since before we met. Funny to think, that you, who helped me away for him, pushed me back to him. Words were exchanged, quiet compared to the blaring music. Money and packets were exchanged under heavy glances between us. I pushed myself at from the wall and strode over to the table, one, two, three bottles of vodka was taken and slipped under my jacket along with the suspicious looking packet.

I made my way to the place where you told you loved me for the first time, I sat on the stone bench, it was a secret hiding place, only known between the two of us. No one had visited since you left me. One bottle was downed quickly, I opened the packet, I hadn't even asked for anything in particular, I didn't know what's in the packet, within seconds the pills were swallowed with extreme amounts of alcohol.

I felt myself leave my body behind, floating high and higher, to the clouds and back. And the next morning, I watched from behind the clouds as he came, red tinned and unshaven, and how when he spotted my body, he yelled out in anguish, anger over taking, smashing the empty glass bottles and ripping the packet up, he sobbed over my body and then he raised the glass and cut into himself. Rain fell from the skies as I cried, out grief was shared. But explanations came next.