I'm battered and bruised,
Bleeding enough for two,
Tired and confused,
But I know what to do.
I bring the cigarette to my lips,
And inhale.
Slowly, methodically.
I remove it from my lips,
And exhale.
Slowly, methodically.
Over and over until there is nothing left.
I stand and breath in the still foggy air around me.
I'm tired, no longer confused,
I know what to do.
I find myself in the kitchen,
A bottle of craft brew,
Not one that I know as it's new.
That doesn't stop me from opening the bottle and pouring the bitter liquid down my throat.
It's awful.
That doesn't stop me from gulping it down tip after tip of the bottle until not a drop is left.
My lungs, my veins, my body throbbing with chemicals and toxins not one of them good for me.
I'm tired, oh so tired.
But I'm no longer confused,
Time to dress my wounds.
STAI LEGGENDO
A cry for help
PoesiaJust a little poetry compilation in progress. ------••------ Trigger warning- Depression. Self harm. Suicide. Break ups. Alcohol. ------••------ All poems are my own. ------••------ The model in the photograph is Ash Bournes- the photo taken by...
