STILL
Misery Nothing matters and I wish I could make myself care. Instead, my eyes are locked in a stare with a bottle large enough to cure my despair. For hours I attempt to numb my frustrations and forget my tenacious fears but in my drunken slumber, I convince myself that I deserve love. That I am loved. Or at least, that is until I wake. Then the cycle of self-hatred once again begins, and I find my eyes locked with a poison that is strong enough to kill my demons, yet not me. Learn to love the void, or you too will be confined within the lies of miseries mind, and in truth I do not know what could be worse. For I am twenty-one and fading quickly if this is my denouement then please do it swiftly. x
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