The smoke rolling off my tongue is just a little too pleasing.
The bottle to my lips tasted a little too sweet.
The pills make me feel just the perfect amount of numb.
And I have no desire to save me from myself.
I foolishly punched my wooden bed fram with full force tonight and now I’m beyond tired trying to sleep but my little ol hand won’t stop aching.
trying to bang with ur boo while ur parent in the other room
I always cover up with your blanket while wearing your sweats and hoodie and squeeze it and put it over my face because I can still smell you on it and remember that we once shared the bed I’m laying in. I don’t even care its summer and 90 degrees out. For the past week it’s the only piece of you I have, and it might be the only piece of you I’ll ever have.