Some wounds don't bleed, they fester-
Inflicted unseen, they
Lie- silent, disguised as
Evenings wasted in drink; or
New trinkets stacked on old piles; they
Call chaos calm and pain a balm, until they
End themselves in silence.
About the Creator
Judah LoVato
My collection of sometimes decent writing
Which I've left "there" for seekers to seek
Though I lack the grandeur of that Pirate King
Perhaps these pebbles can be a light
In this life, this laughing tale
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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)
Oh, so true! Nicely written.