It comes back to me. Crashing, like the waves against the shore.
I guess you don't remember how easy it is to fall until you are standing on the edge of the cliff.
So I fall...
Into the darkness,
Into the water,
Into old habits,
Into your arms.
This is a jumping into a busted faith,
The faith that you will catch me before I hit the sea.
Who tells the truth when you are stumbling down old hallways?
Who lies while you bleed from old wounds?
This is addiction at its finest.
Addicted to being hurt because if I'm not in agony than that means I have to feel everything else.
So I trip towards you,
For you are like red wine and pills,
So easy to get lost in.
And when morning comes,
When I can't remember why I was falling in the first place,
I'll tear myself apart and rebuild for that is the essence of self destruction.
To teeter on the edge of growth and relapse.
YOU ARE READING
The Boy That Never Forgot Their Name
PoetryStep into the life of a mystery in this poetry collection exploring romance, death,pain, and creatures out of this realm. Forget what you have learned of heartbreak and ghosts because when you walk into the forest I promise that you will know the tr...
