Burnt Film.

 

i’m quietly aware of the noise that surrounds me

the life i should be living

slowly passing me

as instead, i sit in the empty bathtub

sipping from my bottle

setting my insides on fire.

 

the alcohol burns my throat

and the cigarettes blacken my lungs

and it doesn’t matter about anything else

because any feeling

is better

than the nothingness without you.

 

i stare at the ceiling

begging it to collapse on top of me

as i wait for unconsciousness to come

praying for the black

but my mind is cruel

and it plays movies of us instead.

 

and i watch the memories play

like a film against the wall

flickering between laughs

and precious moments

until the film reel burns itself out

and so do i.

 

it takes a few seconds

after i wake

for the pain to come flooding back

but those few seconds

of believing you’re still here

are bliss.

 

my head spins as i stand up

last night’s drink is half empty

lying on the floor

and i grab it

ready to set my insides alight

once more.

 

 

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