works in progress

someone once told me that writing is therapeautic. at first i wanted to smack them for insinuating that i need therapy (which i KNOW i do need but to take the initative and acutally go get help would be so uncharactoristic for me... i dont know if i would be able to). but now, after hitting rock bottom and being unable to move from it, i kind of see what they mean. i guess, its just a way for me to get out of my head for a bit.

anyways...i started the works below over the weekend. i am in no way a decent writer, nor should i be considered one. but hell, i'm trying.

---five words to save a life ---
my next tattoo is going to be
{{quod mi nutrit mi distruit}}
what nourishes me destroyes me.

on my neck
in the shape of a noose.

can i help you?
-yes. i'll take one proverbial hanging please
and lets make sure this one works.

as for color
white, i'm thinking.

snow white
but when she bites the apple, this time she wont wake up with just a kiss.
if at all.

so white
pure as my worship of those five words.
quod mi nutrit mi distrut.

five words
that can define a life
and simultaniously
destroy it.

---you win---
shot one.
the vodka lightly splashes itself into the glass,
so cold.
this hurts me more than it should.
the frigid salvation makes its way down my throat.
slightly burning,
calming though.

shot two.
i pause,
trying to comprehend you walking out.
but you are killing me.
the warmth caresses my broken form.
my body gently accepting its fate,
allowing the bitter liquid to reach its destination.

shot three.
at this point,
the glass is refilling itself.
you make it impossible to love you.
i dont want to feel anything.
dont think,
just keep drinking.

screw this.
i say as i down the rest of the bottle,
cherishing every drop.
i wish you the worst in life.
crawl under the covers.
how many more nights will it take,
until i lose his memory forever.

never?
fair enough.
at least liquor stores aren't an endangered species.

---shh---
faux:
emo
emotion
motion.

continuous motion
carrying us
ebb and flow
towards...what?

"what do you mean i'm crazy?"

hit
fall
collapse.

into your arms?

away into the abyss of your eyes,
moving me
closer.

towards the eternal goal of

"you're crazy for being with me then!"

tear fall.
except we come from the godess,
who has absolved us of any emotion.

but we cant
wont
shouldnt.

let anyone know that.

---love it---
misery
misery loves
misery loves company.
..and i'm the guest of honor.

for what?

"vacancy at table one" they cry.
when questioned,
"all seats must be filled for the party to start".

yes,
party.
pity party?

oh no.
to cherish the past,
and embrace the misery.

without.

the constant ache,
we
just wouldnt feel alive.