Don't

[wonderingwhere]

one more hit and then you're done, you tell me,
your eyes becoming someone else's before me.

"don't stop me. don't take away my only love."

people love a lot of strange things these days.

but

i guess people always have and that's how we're where we are.

i don't live a life
i live addictions.
days consist of just trading
them down.

i think the thing that slowly eats at my brain
is that i do them to please myself
but when i do them i find i'm actually less satisfied.

i must love disappointing myself
cause i do it with every lingering breath,
every inhalation,
every fucked up word.

i like to pretend, in my mind, like i'm better than you
like my ghosts are smaller and somehow that makes it ok,
so that i can grab your wrist and pretend i have fangs
to suck out the poison in your veins.

when in reality
we're both sitting here

our eyes half open