The deviled eggs on my legs smell
Of the half-elves from hell that have sprung from their shell
To quell the chaos between summer and Christmas
A potato salad lad rides off to rescue his dad
From the hand of Galahad’s wistless love
Crushing a dove into a pie
Just to eat its rind
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Day 4 of Quitting
If this is how sobriety feels, maybe it’s better to go through life a little buzzed… this, along with other hits like, I want to kill myself, I wish I was dead, and I’m going to throw myself off a bridge have been the only thoughts on rotation these past few days. I promise myself that if, in a month, I still feel like this (‘this’ meaning despondent, full of rage, and simultaneously numb) I can go back to smoking. Until mid-February though? Nicotine is off the table.
By sleepy drafts6 days ago in Longevity
Comments (1)
That was fun, but I kinda feel sorry for the dove. Well done.